The Truth Is, I Never Left You
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: Dalton didn't work out. Kurt is returning to McKinley, back to his friends and family...and the bullies. It won't be an easy road, and the Glee club will have to step up. Rated M for Chapter 19.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So here it is, my first Glee fanfic! I'm really excited. This is going to start out pretty sappy, but I tried to keep everyone relatively in-character.

My motivation: Simple. I want Kurt back at McKinley. Like, yesterday. I have nothing against Dalton or Blaine. In fact, I like Blaine. But every time I read a Klaine fic (and there are quite a few out there now) where Kurt is totally happy at fanon!Dalton, I cry a little inside. Not that Klaine is not a great pairing; it is. But I firmly believe Kurt really belongs at McKinley, where he stands out. I'm a big sucker for Glee club friendship, which is what this starts out as. There will be drama and maybe some dark themes in not-so-distant chapters.

Pairings: All canon; I haven't decided if there will be Klaine, but Blaine will make appearances either way. Finn and Rachel are still separate when this begins, but there will definitely be Finchel. Just so you know.

Time Period: This takes place in February, around the time of the Superbowl episode. I may or may not include spoilers we've been given for that episode. I'll forewarn you if I decide to.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

**1**

It started out just like any other Monday. Then the time for Glee arrived.

It was about five minutes before class was to start, and everyone was hanging out except Mercedes, Finn, and Mr. Schue, who had yet to arrive.

Santana was braiding Brittany's ponytail while the blonde Cheerio chatted merrily with Artie in the row in front. Puck had his arm flung around Santana's shoulders and he was whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. In the back row, Quinn and Sam were being their usual sugary-sweet selves, holding hands and talking quietly. Next to them, Tina and Mike were sharing some "Asian kisses." Rachel sat a seat down from Artie's wheelchair, flipping through a folder of sheet music.

The steady hum of noise was interrupted when Mercedes skidded into the room, her bag hanging off her arm and her face split in half by a wide smile.

"Kurt's coming back!" she crowed.

The others had fallen silent at her entrance; now they mostly just looked confused.

"So what?" Santana said, breaking the silence. She continued weaving her fingers through Brittany's hair.

The others mentally agreed. Kurt had come back to visit every few weeks in the not-quite three months since he'd begun attending Dalton. They all missed him, even if they wouldn't admit it, but even Mercedes never got this excited when he came home. When they did see him, Kurt was always quieter and a bit more reserved than he'd been before his transfer, and this was somewhat unsettling.

But Mercedes shook her head, her grin stretching even wider.

"_No_—I mean he's _transferring_. He's coming back to McKinley!"

There was another moment of silence. Then pandemonium.

Tina _shrieked._ And then joined Mercedes on the floor and embraced her. Brittany tried to jump forward to hug her boyfriend from behind, but Santana's hands yanked her head back and she let out a squeal of pain.

"Sorry, Brit!" Santana said, immediately untangling her fingers.

Quinn and Sam both looked pleasantly surprised, and Mike scooted over to join them as they began chattering animatedly. Puck leaned back casually to listen in. Rachel was already talking (to herself) about the song she could sing to welcome Kurt home.

Finn rushed into the room, phone in hand and a big smile on his face.

"Hey, guys! Kurt is…" His voice trailed off as he took in the scene before him. "Guess you already found out?"

Mercedes laughed and gave the tall teen's hand a friendly squeeze.

"Sorry, honey. I couldn't wait."

The two joined the small huddle around Artie's wheelchair, everyone now discussing how best to express their feelings about Kurt's return. Finn didn't even notice he was sitting next to Rachel until their knees brushed accidentally. The two stared at each other; slowly, Finn smiled and Rachel's lips curled up.

Mr. Schue walked in a minute later, distractedly shuffling through a heaping pile of Spanish quizzes.

"Sorry I'm late-"

He looked up and his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. None of them had heard him; they were still crowded into a knot, laughing and shouting out song titles, desperate to be heard over the person next to them.

"Hey!" Will shouted, putting his things down. "Guys!"

They turned to him, beaming.

"Yes, Mr. Schue?" Rachel asked primly, doing her best to ignore the burning spot where Finn's leg was resting against hers.

"Not that I'm not glad to see you so thrilled about class, but could we keep the noise to an acceptable level? What's got into you all?"

"You haven't heard?" Tina asked.

Their teacher's confused look was all the answer they needed.

"Kurt's coming back to McKinley!" Brittany blurted out, clapping her hands together.

It took a moment for comprehension to dawn on Mr. Schue's face, but then he smiled.

"That's great!"

And they knew he didn't mean that just because they were down a member now that Lauren had suddenly quit the week before.

Kurt was coming home.

**:**

Mr. Schue gave them the rest of class to talk about a song for Kurt's return. When the bell rang, he pulled Finn aside as the other kids left.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Finn nodded and pulled up a chair opposite his teacher.

"What's up?"

Mr. Schue leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and meshing his hands together.

"I think it's great that Kurt's coming back—I really do. But…do you know why, exactly?"

Finn bit his lip; then he nodded slowly. "He doesn't really tell me everything…but I've kind of put it together. You've noticed he doesn't seem as…well, happy, when he's here?" Mr. Schue nodded, so Finn went on. "Honestly, I think Dalton was smothering him. The uniforms and all that? It's not Kurt. He's never really been all that happy there, but he had…Wayne?" Finn stopped, unsure of the name. Then he shook his head. "I think it was _Blaine_, actually. From what I can tell, they sort of started going out. And it wasn't working."

Mr. Schue remembered the boy he'd seen with Kurt when he visited at Christmas, and felt a slight pang.

"Oh."

Finn shrugged. "So apparently it ended kind of badly, and then Kurt didn't have a reason to stay. He just really wanted to come home. And Burt and Mom agreed."

Mr. Schue nodded and sat back in his chair, folding his arms.

"Like I said, I'm happy about this. But the bullies…aren't just going to disappear."

Finn nodded solemnly. "I know. And Kurt knows that, too."

"You need to watch out for him. You and the other guys-"

"And Mercedes," Finn interjected with a slight grin. "She's more frightening than us when it comes to someone threatening Kurt. But I totally get what you mean, Mr. Schue. And we've got his back." He hesitated before straightening resolutely. "_I've _got his back."

Will nodded again. "I'm glad to hear that."

They both stood, and Finn moved toward the door.

"See you tomorrow!" he called back to his teacher. He'd almost made it out when the older man called him back.

"Finn! When does Kurt get here?"

Finn grinned. "Monday."

"So we have less than a week to put this performance together. Tell everyone to come up with their best song ideas. We choose one tomorrow."

"Will do!"

And Finn saluted and jogged down the hallway after his friends.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Don't expect updates to come this quickly on a regular basis. I needed a break from studying for finals. And now finals will keep me from this story for the next week. So enjoy, and thank you to all who reviewed the first chapter!

* * *

**2**

Kurt sighed as he looked around his dorm room, double-checking that he hadn't missed anything in his packing frenzy.

Pavarotti had already been returned, two days before at Kurt's final Warblers meeting. The council had told him how much they'd miss his voice and presence during rehearsal.

Kurt had forced a smile. What voice? What presence? They'd robbed him of both.

"I'm going to miss you, you know."

The small, mousy-haired boy sitting on the bed next to Kurt's took a bite out of his apple and watched his roommate through thick round glasses.

Kurt smiled, and it was a real one this time.

James was a year younger than Kurt, and tiny. He had been welcoming from the start and Kurt had come to view him almost like a little brother.

"Yeah, but I bet it'll be nice to have your own room again!" Kurt said cheerfully.

James had been given his own room at the start of the year because his snoring was deafening. There had been actual complaints from neighbors. But there was little space available for Kurt when he arrived, and he accepted the living "challenge." After all, Finn was a notorious snorer as well.

James shrugged. "But you make things interesting."

Kurt laughed wryly as he carefully folded his fluffy blanket. "You should have seen me before I came to Dalton."

"Maybe I'll see you after you leave?"

Kurt turned, then, to see the younger boy looking at him hopefully. The truth was, James had never really seen the _real _Kurt Hummel, the boy Kurt had been before being chased into retreat by bullies, by things he couldn't tell anyone and fears no one else understood. And James still thought new-Kurt was great.

It gave him hope.

"Sure. We'll Skype. We won't be that far apart, anyway," he said nonchalantly. _And maybe the old Kurt is still in here somewhere._

He _hoped _so.

**:**

"This is our last day to rehearse!" Mr. Schue reminded his students in exasperation as they stood around the auditorium stage, their performance having been interrupted yet again by their teacher. "I understand that it's a Saturday, but Kurt will be back in town later tonight and we need this ready by Monday."

"Chill, Mr. Schue. We've got it under control," Artie said confidently.

"Yeah, Kurt's going to be really impressed," Quinn grinned.

"I gotta leave in an hour," Finn piped up. "I'm going to Dalton with Burt and my mom."

Santana groaned. "And you tell us this _now_?"

"Oh, shut up, Santana," Rachel sniped.

"_Excuse _me?" Santana glowered. Uncertainly, Brittany took a step forward.

Will rubbed a hand down his face. "Guys, calm down. Let's take it from the top."

**:**

Kurt heard the knock on the door as he zipped up the last of his suitcases. He glanced at his watch; too early for his family.

"Come in!" he called.

The door opened; Kurt glanced over his shoulder and froze. Blaine was standing there in his uniform, looking uncomfortable.

Kurt forced himself to turn away and pretended to straighten his tie in the mirror.

"What can I do for you, Blaine?"

"I came to say goodbye," the older boy said quietly. He glanced around the room. "James isn't here?"

"Snowball fight," Kurt said briskly, finally turning to face the junior.

A flicker of a smile crossed Blaine's face, and he reached back and shut the door.

"Oh." His eyes ran up and down Kurt. "You look nice," he said softly.

If it had been Before, Kurt would have blushed. But it was After, so he didn't. As it was, he looked down at his outfit, one of his favorites from home. It felt freeing to be out of the boring Dalton attire.

"Thank you," he said.

An awkward silence followed. Blaine avoided Kurt's eyes, but Kurt watched him, waiting.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Look, I never meant to-"

Kurt cut him off. "I know, Blaine. It doesn't matter anymore. I never belonged at Dalton in the first place."

"But I feel like it's my fault!"

When Kurt did not refute this statement, Blaine did look up and meet the other boy's eyes. Kurt sighed and sat on his bed, patting the space next to him. Blaine sat down hesitantly.

"Don't take credit for things you didn't cause," Kurt said sternly. "I made this choice on my own. Sure, you might have had something to do with it, but I think this would have happened sooner or later."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said sincerely. "About…well, you remember."

Kurt did remember.

_It was a snowy January evening, and he, Blaine, and a half dozen other boys were in the common room, bent laboriously over homework._

_"How am I supposed to know the square root of ninety-six off the top of my head?" Blaine huffed, chewing on the end of his pencil._

_Kurt looked up and grinned. Blaine was so cute when he was stressed._

_"I think my history professor is obsessed with Charlemagne," he replied, eyes returning to his book. "We've been reading about him since before Christmas."_

_Blaine hummed a few bars of "Baby, It's Cold Outside," and Kurt blushed, glancing up again and locking eyes with his almost-boyfriend._

_Though they weren't an official couple, there was definitely something going on between Kurt and Blaine. They relished torturing each other, sitting just close enough to be more than friends, leaning forward to whisper in the other's ear instead of kissing._

_But this was only sometimes. There were other moments when Blaine could be downright cold to Kurt; he'd be distant and refuse offers of help with assignments or coffee during study breaks._

_This both confused and hurt Kurt, but every time he tried to ask about it, Blaine would shut him out._

_But Blaine looked so relaxed now…_

_Kurt reached across and put his hand on top of Blaine's. He was unpleasantly surprised when Blaine looked down and pulled his hand away._

_"I think I'm going to turn in early tonight," he announced, closing his books and gathering them in his arms._

_Kurt stood. "Blaine, wait-"_

_The other boy hurried away, leaving Kurt alone at the table. He waited to feel put-out like he always did, but unexpectedly he felt the beginnings of anger working their up into his chest. Snatching his things, he stalked out of the room in time to see Blaine turn the corner._

_"Blaine!" He broke into a run and caught up quickly, grabbing hold of his friend's __sleeve and wheeling him around. "What is your problem?"_

_Blaine tried to shrug him off. "Kurt, not now…"_

_"Why?" Kurt laughed bitterly. "Because there are people watching?" In fact, there were a few people in the corridor who had stopped or slowed to view the confrontation._

_"Well-"_

_"I don't care who's watching," Kurt said angrily. "Why do you keep shutting me out? What did I do, huh? Just tell me."_

_Blaine's face was tinged pink. "You didn't do anything," he said quietly._

_"Then why are you acting like this? We usually have a great time together, Blaine, but more often than not you have to go and ruin it, and I wanna know _why_!"_

_Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him to a more secluded spot, halfway behind a pillar._

_"I'm not like you, Kurt. I'm not as brave as you are."_

_Kurt gaped. "Is this because we're both __gay__? Because you're afraid of what people are saying?"_

_"No! And…yes." Blaine groaned in frustration. "Look, I'm used to blending in, being part of the crowd. And ever since you came—well, things have changed. You aren't like the rest of us. I worked hard to become what I am now, to be where I am now in the Warblers, and I just don't…"_

_"You don't want to lose your popularity because you're friends with the one person who stands out," Kurt finished, stepping back. "I get it."_

_Blaine reached forward. "Kurt-"_

_"Thanks for being honest. I won't bother you anymore." And Kurt had fled, and he and Blaine had barely spoken since._

"I'm not mad at you anymore," Kurt said now, patting Blaine on the arm. "Of course, I was disappointed. But at least you were honest. And you helped me realize why I don't belong at Dalton. Because I _like _standing out. Or I used to, before I let the bullies dictate my life. Well, no more. I'm going to face my fears."

Blaine looked at the floor. "See, you're so much braver than me..."

Kurt stood. "I don't know about that." His phone vibrated and he glanced at it, a smile appearing on his face. "My parents are here."

Blaine slid off the bed and made his way to the door. Without turning around, he spoke in a quiet voice.

"I was a different person before Dalton, too, Kurt. I wish you could have known that Blaine."

"Maybe someday I will," Kurt said gently. "Keep in touch?"

Blaine nodded, and then he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry this is a little later than I planned...but, well, it _is _the holidays, and things are crazy at home! I hope you enjoy.

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**3**

Kurt stepped out of Dalton's front doors and shielded his eyes against the sunlight.

"Kurt! It's Kurt!"

And before he could get his bearings, Kurt was knocked backward into a mound of snow. He blinked and felt strong hands pull him upright.

"Whoops. Sorry, dude."

Finn beamed down at him, briskly wiping away the flakes coating his stepbrother's coat and hair. Glaring, Kurt shoved him away.

"Don't call me dude," he hissed, self-consciously swiping at his bangs.

Finn only laughed, glancing back as Burt and Carole reached them.

"Yep, same Kurt."

"Hey, Dad," Kurt greeted his father, hugging him tightly. "Carole." She wrapped him up in her arms.

"Kurt, I think you've lost weight…"

He only laughed and stepped back, taking a good look at his family. Kurt didn't want to admit it, but he'd really been homesick at Dalton. He was used to his father's constant presence and support, and visits home only served to show him what he was missing in the newly united family. He was glad to know he wouldn't be absent from this any longer.

After the wedding, Kurt had fully expected to discover renewed jealousy over the bond between his father and Finn, but the complete opposite had occurred - he was glad the two shared a love of sports and other "manly" activities, while he and Carole both loved to cook and gossip. The family fit together, and Kurt honestly couldn't be happier with the way it had all turned out.

"Uh, Kurt?" Finn's hand appeared in front of his face, and Kurt realized he'd drifted off on his thoughts.

Now he smiled and offered his arm to his stepmother.

"Shall we go fetch my bags?"

Carole laughed and linked her elbow in his. "We shall."

**:**

The Hudson-Hummel residence _smelled _like home—like Burt's distinctive auto shop aroma, Carole's perfume, Finn's love of junk food. It looked the same, too, and Kurt almost felt like he was stepping back in time to before he ever left for Dalton.

The four of then unloaded the bags in record time and then Kurt pranced downstairs to inspect his and Finn's bedroom.

Finn had made some changes since Kurt's departure, but none were major. The space was divided into two obvious zones. Finn's had posters on the walls, an unmade bed, and sports magazines scattered everywhere. Kurt's was immaculately neat and a little bare, without the items still packed upstairs. The basement smelled like Finn, too, but Kurt's eyes teared up when he detected the scent of his own shampoos and lotions. Even his temporary absence couldn't purge Kurt's space of the essence that was so _him._

"I tried to clean up a little…"

Finn had followed him down. He stood by the stairs, hands in his jacket pockets, and smiled sheepishly.

"I'll let it slide, just this once," Kurt said, folding his arms over his chest and smirking. "But now that I'm back, you're going to have to do better than _try_."

Finn's smile grew, and he stepped forward. "I missed you, Kurt," he said, pulling his stepbrother into a hug.

**:**

Later, after a delicious dinner prepared by Kurt himself with Carole's assistance, the two teenagers found themselves alone in the basement. Finn sat on his bed, watching Kurt unpack.

"Everyone is really excited to see you," the taller boy said cheerfully.

"Everyone?" Kurt snorted, thinking of a couple Glee club members in particular. He was pulling shoes out of his bag and arranging them in the closet.

"Even Puck and Santana," Finn replied with a knowing grin.

Kurt smirked. "I'm flattered." He stepped back and put his hands on his hips, surveying his replaced clothing with satisfaction. "I'm excited to see them, too."

Finn shifted and his eyes flickered toward the stairs before he looked uncertainly back at his brother.

"So…you and Blaine…"

Kurt sighed and sat on his own bed, back to the other boy. "Finn, I don't want to talk about it."

"…I just need to know if I should beat him up or something."

"_What?_" Kurt turned so fast his neck cracked.

Finn shrugged. "It's my job, right? To look after my little brother?"

Kurt had to laugh. "You are only a few months older than me, Finn Hudson. And, no, you most certainly do not need to become violent against anyone."

"But…" Finn looked distinctly uncomfortable now, and Kurt sighed again, laying down across the mattress and staring up at the ceiling.

"What?"

"You…you _were _together, right?"

Kurt felt a dull pang. "No," he said quietly, closing his eyes. "No, we weren't."

**:**

Sunday passed uneventfully; Kurt spent the day with his family, good-naturedly tolerating his father and Finn's fascination with football and accompanying Carole to the grocery store to, as Finn put it, "re-crapify" the pantry by stocking up on healthy foods.

He held a long conversation with Mercedes over the phone, promising they would be spending a lot of time together starting the next day and affirming that, yes, of course he was looking forward to seeing her and everyone else from glee.

"I miss you, hon," he told her as the conversation was winding down. "I've missed you more than anyone."

"I forgive you," she said, and he could hear her smiling over the phone. "Now that you're home, I get my best friend back."

**:**

Monday morning arrived. Kurt spent extra time getting ready, which meant Finn spent extra time whining for his roommate to "hurry up already, or we'll be late."

Kurt finally emerged. Finn thought he looked the same as always, but thought that must be the point; to be rid of the Dalton uniform, to go back to normal. He felt like he should let Kurt know his goal had been achieved.

"You look…" he wrinkled his nose in thought. "Like you," he finished lamely.

Kurt smiled as he picked up his bag. "Thank you, Finn, but you aren't obligated to comment on my appearance." He eyed Finn's baggy jeans and T-shirt and rolled his eyes. "Although if you ever want any wardrobe advice for yourself, I'd be more than happy to help."

Finn opted to turn and escape up the stairs, to the sounds of laughter.

**:**

Once more behind the wheel of the Navigator, Kurt couldn't sit still. He drummed his fingers on the wheel at every red light, tapped his foot impatiently, and sighed often.

"Kurt, calm down," Finn said. "McKinley isn't going anywhere."

"I'm just a little nervous," Kurt confessed. "It's been a while, and I don't know what to expect."

"Well, I don't know if this is comforting or whatever, but nothing's changed. Seriously, it's still the same old, same old." Finn eyed his stepbrother and bit his lip before continuing. "And, just so you know, Puck was completely serious about us protecting you. Karofsky and those guys aren't gonna touch you."

Kurt blushed and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

"That…means a lot, Finn. Thanks." He cleared his throat, feigning disinterest. "Is he…I mean, are they…?"

"Exactly the same since you left," Finn replied honestly. "Slushies on a regular basis. That's what you meant, right?" When his stepbrother didn't answer right away, he frowned. "Kurt?"

"Yeah," Kurt said finally. "That's what I meant."


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

They arrived at the high school moments later. Kurt pulled into a vacant parking space and shut off the engine, but he didn't make any move to get out of the car. He stared through the windshield and took a deep breath.

"You okay?" Finn asked, hand pausing on his door handle.

Kurt nodded, but he still didn't move.

"It's going to be fine," Finn said encouragingly.

Kurt nodded again, and then he opened his door and got out, looping his bag over his shoulder and locking the car as Finn stepped around the front to join him.

"I need to go to the office to get my schedule," he said. "It should be the same, but Dad said I have to sign in or something. First day back and all."

"I'll come with you," Finn said, leading the way as they approached the building. He didn't miss the way Kurt steered well clear of the dumpsters, even though there were no bullies in sight. He half-expected his stepbrother to protest his offer, but Kurt smiled instead.

"Thanks."

They stepped into the school, and Kurt relaxed a bit. The atmosphere was familiar—jocks roaming the halls in letterman jackets, Cheerios milling about in short skirts and ponytails, everyone being the loudest and most obnoxious they could be. Yes, this was public school.

None of Kurt's bullies were to be seen, but Finn kept an eye out as they navigated the chaos toward the front office. He jumped forward instinctively when someone bolted suddenly out of the crowd and tackled his charge.

"Kurt! Ohmigod, you're _here_!"

The squealing reassured Finn that there was nothing to worry about even before he recognized the "attacker" as his brother's best friend.

Kurt hugged Mercedes back, a little winded but beaming broadly.

"You're looking gorgeous today, 'Cedes," he said, stepping back and surveying her outfit with a critical eye. "I approve."

Mercedes' smile stretched to match Kurt's own. "I bet you missed _this _at Dalton, with those boring uniforms and all!"

Kurt winked. "Oh, but there were _plenty _of scrumptious boys to supplement the view."

The two broke into a giggle fit, and Finn felt uncomfortable.

"Um…"

"Oh, I'll take it from here, Finn," Mercedes said, waving him away. "Shoo." She threaded her arm through Kurt's and they took off down the hall, chatting merrily.

Finn couldn't resist a pout, until Kurt waved over his shoulder once, mouthing 'Thank you.'

**:**

Kurt reached into his locker for his math book, humming quietly to himself. His first day back had gone very smoothly, so far. Besides Mercedes, he'd seen Tina and Mike (a tight hug and a fist-pump were the respective greetings), Rachel (she'd immediately launched into listing several duets she thought would be perfect for the pair of them), and Artie, Brittany, and Santana (earning another fist-pump, a third hug, and a nod and smirk).

He knew these meetings were far from random; his friends kept appearing outside his classes, insisting on escorting him to the next even when they weren't in them. He hadn't had a moment to himself all day. The upside to this was that he hadn't seen Karofsky, either.

Kurt surveyed his makeup in his locker mirror one last time before swinging the door shut. Before he could step away, he heard heavy footsteps coming up behind him, and felt breath on his neck. He froze.

"Hey, man."

He relaxed when he heard Puck's distinctive drawl, and turned to smile at the other teen.

"Hello, Noah."

"Feel weird to be back?" Puck asked, leaning against the wall of lockers.

"A little," Kurt admitted, hoisting his bag further onto his shoulder. "But then again, I haven't yet met the pleasure of a slushie facial. It isn't home without them." He flashed Puck a wry smile.

Puck smirked. "Right. Well, as you probably have guessed, your next class just _happens _to be on the way to mine. So I'll walk with you." And he slipped a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

Kurt's eyebrow arched. "You're really enjoying this whole Secret Service idea, aren't you?"

His response was a devilish grin and a slap on the back. Sighing, the shorter boy followed his friend down the hallway.

**:**

At lunch, Kurt sat with Mercedes and Artie.

They were planning a trip to the mall—that is, Kurt and Mercedes were planning as Artie pretended to be interested—when Kurt saw him.

Karofsky was standing across the cafeteria, tray in hand, as he laughed with Azimio and another football player. Kurt knew he was all too easily visible, and he ducked his head just a little lower, hoping none of them would happen to glance over.

Luck was not with him. Most likely searching for some of their buddies, Azimio's eyes panned across the lunchroom and he spotted Kurt.

"Ah," was all Kurt could say as the bulky player nudged Karofsky and motioned their way.

Mercedes and Artie turned just in time to see Karofsky drop his tray. It landed with a clatter, food spilling everywhere. The room hushed and heads swiveled to the guilty party, who stared at Kurt for a split-second longer before laughing loudly and mumbling some excuse to his friends which made them laugh and slap him on the back. People turned away again, and the moment was gone.

Mercedes reached out and lay her hand over Kurt's.

"Don't let him bother you, Kurt. He's so not worth it."

Kurt nodded and forced his thoughts away from his tormentor. Karofsky was just a scared, closeted boy, and Kurt was determined to prove he was stronger.

**:**

It was Rachel who walked with him to glee practice. It was sort of weird, having her hanging onto his arm as she talked his ear off, but then, things had changed between them since he'd left for Dalton. He wondered if their newfound closeness would last for long now that he was back at McKinley.

She tugged him up to the auditorium doors, reaching for the handle.

"Okay, well, see you in a bit, Kurt!"

And she pulled him inside before disappearing. The room was dark, and Kurt blinked. Everything was very quiet.

"Rachel?" he breathed, a little nervous. He groped forward. "Hello?"

"Kurt!" A familiar voice sounded to his left and he gave a little jump as a small light illuminated the face of Will Shuester. The man touched Kurt's arm, grinning. "It's great to see you again."

"You too, Mr. Schue," Kurt said smiling. "Um, what's going on?"

"Oh, you'll see in a minute. Come on."

Using the light—a cell phone, Kurt realized—as a guide, Mr. Schue led the way down the center aisle to the third row of seats. Beckoning Kurt to follow, he slid halfway down the row and sat. Bemused, Kurt seated himself next to his teacher as Mr. Schue shut off the light.

They were left in the darkness.

"What-?"

Kurt was cut off as music suddenly filled the room, and the curtains opened.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm so sorry for the long wait! A lot of stuff came up, not the least of which is my second semester of college, and I got pulled away from this for awhile. I hope this chapter sustains you until the next is up!

* * *

**5**

Kurt's jaw slackened as a spotlight slowly faded up on Mercedes. She was dressed in a black T-shirt and blue jeans, and she smiled directly at him as she lifted a microphone to her lips.

_"I __miss you, old friend,  
__Can I hold you?  
__And though it's been a long time  
__Old friend  
D__o you mind?  
__There were so many things  
__I wish I had said  
__I meant to love you  
__But I hurt you instead  
__I've come here now  
__To make amends  
__Can I sit down beside you?  
__Can we be close again?"_

Mr. Schue glanced over at Kurt—the teen's eyes were shining with tears, and he had unconsciously lifted a hand toward Mercedes to copy her reaching toward him. The music began to change and the spotlight faded away, only to rise in another position over Rachel, dressed identically to the other girl. She smiled.

_"Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around.  
__Nothing's gonna harm you, no sir, not while I'm around.  
__Demons are prowling everywhere, nowadays,  
__I'll send them howling,  
__I don't care, I've got ways.  
__No one's gonna hurt you,  
__No one's gonna dare.  
__Others can desert you,  
__Not to worry, whistle, I'll be there.  
__Demons'll charm you with a smile, for a while,  
__But in time...  
__Nothing can harm you  
__Not while I'm around..."_

The lights slowly rose over the whole stage, revealing the eleven members of New Directions, dressed identically, everyone with their backs to the audience except Finn. He stood front and center, beaming out at his stepbrother as the music changed radically, to a faster pace.

_"__What would you do if I sang out of tune,  
__Would you stand up and walk out on me?  
__Lend me your ear and I'll sing you a song,  
__And I'll try not to sing out of key.  
__Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends,  
__I get high with a little help from my friends,  
__Oh, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends..."_

Puck and Artie turned then, singing in tandem: _"Do you need anybody?"_

Finn nodded and extended his arms in a hopeless gesture: _"I need somebody to love..."_

Sam and Mike turned: _"Could it be anybody?"_

Finn sighed: _"I want somebody to love…"_

The last word dragged out until the music, lights, and kids all shot into motion at once, spinning around to a very familiar tune, with choreography clearly crafted by Brittany and Mike, who seemed to be leading the others as they all broke into song.

_"__We go together  
__Like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong  
__Remembered forever  
__As shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom  
__Chang chang changitty chang shoobop  
__That's the way it should be, wha oooh, yeah_

_We're one of a kind  
__Like dip dadip dadip doowop da doobee doo  
__Our names are signed  
__Boogedy boogedy boogedy boogedy shooby doowop shebop  
__Chang chang changitty chang shoobop  
__We'll always be like one, wa wa wa wah_

_When we go out at night and stars are shinin' bright  
__Up in the skies above  
__Or at the high school dance where you can find romance  
__Maybe it might be love"_

The group broke into couples and started at the back of the stage, slowly advancing to the edge as they sang.

(Brittany and Artie)_ "Rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong"_

(Rachel and Finn)_ "Shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom"_

(Tina and Mike) "_Chang chang changitty chang shoobop"_

(Santana and Puck)_ "Dip dadip dadip doowop da doobee doo"_

(Quinn and Sam)_ "Boogedy boogedy boogedy boogedy shooby doowop shebop"_

(Mercedes and Finn) "_Sha na na na na na na na yippity dip de doom"_

They had reached the edge now, and stood in a line, snapping and leaning forward and singing all together in hushed voices.

_"Rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong  
__Shoobop sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom  
__Chang chang changitty chang shoobop  
__Dip dadip dadip doowop da doobee doo  
__Boogedy boogedy boogedy boogedy shooby doowop shebop  
__Sha na na na na na na na yippity dip de doom  
__Wop baba lumop a wap bam boom"_

The room exploded in sound again as all the kids leapt off the stage (Finn and Puck lifted Artie down) and they advanced up the aisle to Mr. Schue and Kurt. The latter had tears on his face, accompanied by an earsplitting smile and a look of pleased disbelief.

_"We're for each other  
__Like wop baba lumop a wap bam boom  
__Just like my brother  
__Is sha na na na na na na na yippity dip de doom  
__Chang chang changitty chang shoobop  
__We'll always be together wha oooh, yeah  
__We'll always be together  
__We'll always be together  
__We'll always be together..."_

As one, they jumped forward and pulled Kurt into a hug.

"WELCOME HOME!"

**:**

"Your hands are still really soft, Kurt," Brittany said quietly, massaging one between her hands.

"Um, thanks, Brit. Do you think I could use them to eat now?"

It was an hour or so after the welcome back performance, and the glee club and their teacher were all sitting around a table at Breadstix. Kurt was squished between Finn and Mercedes, with Brittany sitting across from him. Their food had just arrived, but as Kurt reached forward to take a bite, his hand had been accosted by the blonde Cheerio.

"Sorry," Brittany said vaguely, letting Kurt go and turning to her boyfriend. "Can we try that _Lady and the Tramp_ thing now?"

"So, you know we're all really glad you're back, Kurt," Rachel said briskly from Mercedes' other side. "But I think now might be the perfect time to discuss Regionals. As you all know-"

"Rachel," Mr. Schue said firmly. "No business tonight, okay? We're celebrating."

"But-"

"He said _no_, dwarf," Santana said snarkily. She was clearly speaking to Rachel, but her glare was fixed instead on her best friend and Artie, who now had a strand of spaghetti suspended between their mouths.

"That's disgusting," Quinn said quietly, sipping her water.

"Guys," Mr. Schue cautioned them.

"I think we need to do something together this weekend," Mercedes said brightly, cutting through the tension. She snuggled against Kurt's shoulder; he linked his arm through hers without looking up.

Tina nodded. "Yeah, like the movies or roller blading. We had fun that one time, right?"

"What we _need _is more rehearsal-" Rachel began, but Finn cut in.

"I think Mercedes and Tina are right. I mean, we did that mattress commercial, remember? And that helped us get it together for Sectionals last year. We could use something like that again."

"Finn has a point," Mike shrugged.

"But _no _professional ads," Mr. Schue said pointedly. "No repeats of that debacle, understand?"

"Of course, Mr. Schue," Mercedes said. "Anyway, I was thinking a sleepover, something more low-key."

Kurt perked up. "We could do it at our house. The basement is big enough to fit everyone, if we move the furniture out of the way."

Everyone began to agree until Puck slammed his hand on the table for silence.

"Noah…" Quinn hissed. He ignored her.

"Fine, but just so we're clear, there will be _zero _gay musical watching at this glee-over, kapeesh?"

Kurt sneered at him. "What's the matter, _Noah_? You'll sing _Grease_, but you won't watch it?"

Puck smirked. "Hey, I'm a bad-ass. I'm like one of those T-ducks."

"T-birds," Sam corrected, snickering.

"Whatever. Doesn't mean I have to _like _that kind of thing all the time."

Kurt sighed. "Of course it doesn't. Okay, no showings of _Grease_. But no issues of _Playboy_, either. And _no _alcohol." He leveled a pointed glare at the mohawked teen, who grinned.

"Can I bring dope?"

"I'm not hearing this," Mr. Schue groaned.

* * *

A/N: In order of appearance, the songs used were:

"I Miss You, Old Friend" from _Dreamgirls  
_"Nothing's Gonna Harm You" from _Sweeney Todd  
_"With A Little Help From My Friends" by the Beatles, also in _Across the Universe  
_"We Go Together" from _Grease_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Everyone loves quick updates! Including me, so here you go. Includes the introduction of some of the 'bullying' mentioned in the summary. And it's only going to get worse...

* * *

**6**

"I really enjoyed the performance today," Kurt said as he and Finn drove home later that evening. "Whose idea was it?"

"It was kind of a collective thing," Finn said, fiddling with the radio dial.

"Well, it was really good, especially considering you only had a week's notice that I was coming back. _Stop_," he said, slapping Finn's hand away from the dashboard. "I refuse to listen to what _you _consider music. Anyway, there's something I want to talk to you about, and I might as well do it now while I have you captive in the car."

Finn sat back in his seat, instantly suspicious.

"What?"

"You and Rachel."

Finn shook his head. "I don't want to talk about her right now."

"I find that hard to believe, considering the way you two were practically having eye-sex all through dinner." Kurt shot his stepbrother a small smile. "I may not be the expert on heterosexual relationships, Finn, but I _am _fairly observant, and trust me, I'm not the only one who noticed."

The taller teen blushed. "No way. I'm not in love with Rachel anymore."

Kurt sighed. "Being in love, now that _is _something I know about. And you _are_," he added quickly, cutting off the awkward memories standing between the two boys. He couldn't resist adding quietly, "Because I know how it feels to fall out of love, too."

"Look, she really hurt me," Finn said, a little angrily. "And I'm supposed to forgive her, just like that?"

"It looks like you've already forgiven Puck," Kurt replied.

"That's different. You almost expect that kind of thing from Puck. And at least he stopped her from going any farther. You don't know what it's like, to have two girlfriends cheat on you, and with the same guy. I still haven't completely forgiven Quinn."

"You aren't in love with Quinn, either," Kurt pointed out. "And I don't think you ever really were."

"How the hell do _you _know?"

"I just do," Kurt said. "The same way I know Quinn isn't over Puck and Artie and Brittany probably won't last forever, especially not if Santana has her way. Can you honestly tell me I'm wrong about them?"

Finn didn't even have to think about it.

"No," he mumbled.

"I thought so," Kurt said, satisfied. "My point is that you and Rachel are only making each other miserable by staying apart like this. You've had your time to think it all over, and it's clear you're still hung up on each other. If you weren't, you probably would have hooked up with Santana by now."

"_What?_"

Kurt groaned. "Oh, that just proves my point. You didn't even notice the way _she _was looking at you. Face it, Finn—sooner or later, you're going to have to make a choice. I don't think Rachel's going to wait forever."

**:**

Kurt was lying awake in bed that night when his phone buzzed with a new text message. He glanced at the other bed in the room; Finn continued to snore. Rolling his eyes, he reached out and opened the message.

_Blaine: How was your first day back?_

He sighed and sat up, hating the way his stomach filled with knots at the mere thought of the Warbler. It was clear Blaine was not interested in him in that way, but he couldn't stop thinking about him.

It was pathetic.

He hesitated before wording a reply.

_Kurt: It was fine. Welcome back performance from ND. No bullies._

Then he shut off his phone and turned over, trying to fall asleep.

**:**

The next few days went by without a hitch. Kurt continued to have constant company in the hallways and barely saw Karofsky at all.

On Thursday morning, Kurt was regaling Sam with the story of the football team dancing to 'Single Ladies' (which the other boy had somehow never heard), when the blonde teen suddenly darted to the countertenor's other side and was jerked backwards as someone knocked roughly into him.

Kurt flinched; Sam turned and shouted to the retreating letterman jacket.

"Hey, Karofsky, watch where you're going!" Then he turned to Kurt, shook his head, and kept asking questions as if nothing had happened.

After a moment of stunned silence, Kurt took Sam's cue and shook it off, laughing and continuing his tale.

**:**

Deep down, Kurt knew it couldn't last forever.

On Friday, he slipped up.

Mercedes and Brittany had walked him to French, which was one class he didn't share with any of the other glee kids. It was as they were beginning the day's lesson that he realized he'd forgotten his book in his locker.

Madame Gray gave him a hall pass and he slipped out the door into the deserted hallway. Quickly, with purposeful steps, he began to make his way to the correct part of the building.

He almost made it.

"Hey, _fag._"

Kurt's muscles froze up instantly. He began to turn but hands grabbed his jacket from the back and pulled him roughly sideways into the boy's bathroom, shoving him against the sinks.

Kurt turned and began to retort ("What the-") but Karofsky lunged forward, fisting his collar and shoving him up against the wall.

"Where ya been, Hummel? You've been getting your homo friends to ferry you around. It hurt my feelings, not getting any _alone time_ with you."

The tone sent chills up Kurt's spine. He forced himself to stare defiantly back at the glaring jock.

"What makes you think I'd _ever _want to be alone with you?" he said coldly.

Karofsky's face darkened and he suddenly pressed in closer, pushing his body up against Kurt's.

Kurt couldn't help it. He panicked.

"Get away from me!" he shrieked.

Karofsky's hand slammed over his mouth. "Be quiet," he hissed.

Kurt struggled; Karofsy's hands went to his shoulders to hold him still, but before the smaller boy could make a sound, chapped lips crashed against his.

This kiss was much rougher than the first, more forceful. Kurt couldn't breathe, and try as he might to shove the bully away, Karofsky didn't budge. Tears of humiliation and anger built in Kurt's eyes.

Finally, Karofsky pulled away, running one hand down Kurt's chest.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he purred.

Kurt trembled. "You—you—"

"Well, I gotta get to class, but we'll have to do this again, soon, mkay, Hummel?" With a wink, the bulky athlete left Kurt alone at the sinks.

Kurt's knees trembled. He whirled around and began to wash his mouth out, trying to get rid of the taste.

As he stood there, staring at himself in the mirror and struggling to regain his composure, the door swung open.

It was Mike. He must have seen that something was wrong because he frowned.

"Kurt? You okay?"

Kurt forced himself to smile.

"Yeah. I'm fine."


	7. Chapter 7

**7**

"Dude, what happened today?" Finn asked as he helped Kurt push their furniture against the walls to make room for their friends, who would be arriving soon for the sleepover.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked innocently, putting his hands on his hips and critiquing their handiwork.

"Don't do that!" Finn said hotly. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid!"

Kurt turned to him, surprised. "Finn, I genuinely don't know what you're talking about."

"Mike told me he ran into you in the bathroom." Kurt's heart dropped. "He said you looked pretty upset."

"He must have been in a hurry. I just had to pee, I was washing up when he came in," Kurt replied, trying to sound dismissive.

"Mike isn't stupid, either. He thought he saw Karofsky disappear around the corner." Finn took a step closer, staring seriously down at his stepbrother. "Was he harassing you?"

Kurt met his gaze bravely. "It was just the usual stuff," he said. "No big deal."

"It _is _a big deal!" Finn said angrily, throwing his hands into the air. "I want to help you, Kurt, we all do, but how can we do that if you won't be honest? You can't act like this is nothing! The guy made you transfer schools, for God's sake!"

"Finn!" Kurt took a breath. "I'm okay. Really. Can we please enjoy tonight and not worry about it right now?

Finn gave him a long look. "Fine. But we're not done talking about this."

**:**

Two hours later, the party was in full swing. Against Kurt's wishes, Finn had secured a large amount of junk food, which was crammed onto a table by the stairs. Kurt had set up his iPod to play music as the club arrived, and most of the girls had taken the opportunity to begin a sing-a-long, which they soon pulled Kurt into as well.

The rest of the guys had wasted no time getting into one of Finn's video games, so the basement was a cacophony of noise; electronic gunfire mixed with belted musical tunes was an interesting combination. Kurt was grateful that Carole had convinced his dad they should spend the evening out. They wouldn't be back until late.

"Hey!" Puck announced, standing on the couch to be noticed. "I think we should play a game."

"Like Truth or Dare?" Mercedes asked, taking a breather from her enthusiastic rendition of 'I Will Survive.'

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'Never Have I Ever.'"

This intrigued the others enough that the television was switched off and the iPod turned way down, and everyone gathered in a circle in the middle of the room. Puck dragged a large duffel along with him.

Kurt eyed it suspiciously. "Puck, there'd better not be any alcohol in there."

"Don't be such a prude, Hummel," Santana rolled her eyes.

"I didn't bring any booze," Puck said, apparently disappointed with himself. "I've met your dad and no way was I going to piss him off. I brought Red Bull." And he pulled out a large case of the drink.

"That stuff is disgusting," Artie recoiled.

"I know, right? So it works, sort of. We play 'Never Have I Ever,' and if you _have_, you have to take a 'shot,' or a sip, of Red Bull."

"That actually makes sense," Tina shrugged and took the can passed to her.

Kurt sighed. "Whatever. But Artie's right, this stuff sucks. And it can't be good for you."

"Don't be a spoilsport," Mercedes said playfully, nudging him. "This game is fun!"

"With this group?" Kurt arched an eyebrow. "We'd better be careful."

"I'm hurt," Puck said. "Just for that, you can go first."

Kurt shrugged and shot a sly glance at Mercedes. "Okay…never have I ever thrown a rock through someone's windshield."

Mercedes fake-snarled at him and gingerly took a sip out of her drink. Puck shrugged and took a swig of his own. This didn't surprise anyone.

"Okay," Mercedes said. "Never have I ever made out with a girl."

All the boys, plus Santana and Brittany, drank this time. Kurt winked at Brittany.

"My turn," Artie said. "Um…never have I ever…been arrested."

Puck was the only one to drink this time.

All eyes turned to Brittany, who was next in the circle. She stared back at them, confused.

"Brit, it's your turn," Quinn prompted her.

Brittany straightened. "Oh! Never have I ever been a cheerleader."

"But you _are _a cheerleader, babe," Mercedes stifled a laugh. Nevertheless, Quinn, Brittany, Santana, Mercedes, and Kurt obediently drank.

Santana smirked. "Never have I ever refused to have sex with someone."

"Sleaze," Rachel murmured as she took a drink. Quinn followed suit, as did Puck.

"Really?" Quinn asked her ex. "Who was it?"

"Lauren," he muttered. Everyone laughed, and he shot the room as a whole a glare. "My turn. Never have I ever seen _Grease_."

Kurt shook his head in disbelief. "Seriously?" He took a sip, as did every single other person in the room.

"Never have I ever had sex," Rachel said primly, narrowing her eyes at Santana.

Everyone except Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina drank.

"Never have I ever been on an airplane," Sam said, shrugging as Rachel, Quinn, Kurt, Tina, and Mike took sips.

Quinn thought for a moment. "Never have I ever been to New York City."

Rachel and Kurt both looked deeply offended, even moreso when they were the only two to drink.

"Nationals this year," Rachel assured them.

"Um…never have I ever…been pregnant?" Tina shrugged as Quinn shot her a look. "Sorry, I couldn't think of anything!"

"Never have I ever sucked at dancing," Mike said proudly.

"That's a matter of opinion," Finn pouted as he was the only one brave enough to take a swig. "Artie!" he pleaded.

Artie shrugged. "Sorry, but I've got _moves _in this chair!"

Finn glowered. "Fine. Never have I ever…kissed a boy."

All the girls reached forward, and before Kurt even thought about it, he had reached for his can, too.

"_What_?" Mercedes said incredulously as Kurt cringed at his mistake. "You're telling me you got your first _real _kiss and didn't tell me? Spill!"

Everyone was looking at them now, and Kurt's eyes widened.

"I—it didn't mean anything—I mean—"

"You're not getting away that easily!" Tina prodded.

"Just drop it, okay?" Kurt exclaimed, jumping to his feet, his face flushing. "I mean—I'll be right back." And he pounded up the stairs.

They stared after him for a moment before Quinn spoke gently.

"I think that's enough of that game. Everyone got a turn, after all."

"I'll go see if he's okay," Mercedes agreed, following after her best friend.

There was an awkward silence.

"So…anyone know any dirty jokes?"

"_Puck_!"


	8. Chapter 8

**8**

Mercedes knew where Kurt would be—where he always was when something upset him and his basement wasn't good enough.

She padded up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom. The door was wide open and even with the lights off she could make out the shape of her best friend leaning against his mother's old dresser.

Silently, Mercedes lowered herself next to Kurt, taking his hand in hers and rubbing gentle circles on his palm. She waited.

It took a few minutes, but Kurt finally looked at her. His face was dry, but in the light from the hallway, Mercedes could see that his eyes were glistening.

"Did I freak everyone out?" he asked softly.

"They're worried about you," Mercedes admitted. "But I think you just surprised them. I'm sorry, boo. I wouldn't have asked you to spill if I'd known it was gonna upset you."

Kurt shook his head. "I overreacted."

Mercedes hesitated. "Don't get mad…but was it Blaine? Did he push you before you were ready?"

Kurt laughed bitterly. "I wish. No, it wasn't Blaine." He sighed and brushed a hand across his face. "I can't tell you what happened, 'Cedes. I promised I wouldn't."

"I'm your best friend, Kurt."

"I know. Which is why I know I can trust you to keep the others off my back. Please."

Mercedes really wanted to protest. She held Kurt's pleading gaze, unwavering, for a few long moments before relenting.

"All right. But just so you know, you can tell me _anything_, okay? No matter what it is. I won't tell anyone else."

Kurt squeezed her hand in relief. "Thank you." He stood, pulling her along. "Should we go see what damage the others have managed to inflict in our absence?"

**:**

When they rejoined the party, Kurt got a few concerned looks, but Mercedes cut off any questioning by suggesting they watch a movie.

Rachel promptly suggested _Funny Girl_, which Santana shot down on the grounds that Kurt had promised no musicals. Sam barely got out the first syllable of _Avatar _before Quinn slapped a hand over his mouth. _The Shining _was discarded on the grounds that Brittany didn't like scary movies.

No one noticed Puck sliding a disc into the DVD player until he turned the television on.

"What did you—oh, no way!" Artie laughed as Puck flicked to the menu and familiar music reached their ears.

"We don't have to," Kurt said, though he was smiling. "I did promise no _Grease._"

"I've never seen it," Puck grunted. "And I refuse to be the only kid at McKinley who doesn't know the lyrics to 'Summer Nights.'"

"I'll go make popcorn," Finn offered, bounding up the stairs with Mike at his heels.

"I can't believe you've gone soft," Santana groaned, rolling her eyes at her sometimes-boyfriend.

Mercedes, however, had seen the protective way Puck looked at Kurt, and she shot the teen a grateful smile, fully aware he was doing this more for the countertenor than for himself.

**:**

They made it about fifteen minutes through before the Red Bull kicked in, and soon there were twelve teenagers singing at the top of their lungs, jumping around, and throwing popcorn at each other.

"_THOSE SUMMER NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTS!_"

Everyone else laughed as Finn and Rachel belted out the final line of the famous tune. Neither seemed aware that at some point they had joined hands, or that they were the only two still singing.

When the song ended, and applause filled the room, they both turned bright red. Rachel made as if to pull away, but Finn held on.

"Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked quietly. "Privately?" Rachel nodded eagerly, and they ascended the staircase.

"About time," Tina observed, flopping back onto the floor.

**:**

Finn led Rachel into the living room and they sat on the couch together.

"Look, Rach, I…I was so mad when I found out what you did with Puck..."

"I know," Rachel said. "And I was wrong to do that. I'm sorry—"

"You've apologized enough, let me finish," Finn interrupted her, and she fell silent obediently, twisting her hands together in her lap. "I was really upset and I tried so hard to stay mad. But I can't. I care about you too much." He took a breath. "And I want to try again."

Rachel took a shaky breath, her eyes shining hopefully. "You mean, start over?"

"Not exactly." He smirked a little. "I mean, we can skip over the whole trying-to-seduce-me thing, right?"

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder and scooted closer.

"Starting over doesn't mean we have to redo everything we've already done," she whispered, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips.

**:**

The movie went on, and with it, the crazy caffeine-fueled singing and dancing. Finn and Rachel rejoined the group around the dance scene, cheeks flushed and fingers linked.

By the time "You're The One That I Want" rolled around, Santana and Puck were making out on Finn's bed, Brittany was spinning in circles around the room (after having consumed two more cans of Red Bull), Artie was watching her with a frown, and the remainder of the club was just hamming it up.

No sooner had the credits rolled than everyone collapsed on the floor, exhausted from their jamming session. Brittany stopped spinning and took a step; she staggered and fell across Kurt's bed, giggling.

"That was great," Kurt said finally, his voice slightly hoarse.

He was met with murmured agreement.

The door at the top of the stairs opened.

"Kurt? Finn?"

"Hey!" Finn called as his mother and Burt came down the stairs, surveying the mess and the sprawled teenagers with amusement.

"You guys winding down already?" Burt asked.

"No way!" Puck protested (he was now sitting on the floor, having been shoved there by Santana when the parents arrived). "Just taking a breather."

"Try not to completely wreck the basement, okay, kids?" Carole smiled at them.

"No problem, Mrs. H," Mercedes waved a hand while continuing to lie flat on her back.

"We're going to head to bed in a few, so keep the noise down," Burt told them, turning to head back upstairs. "Good night!"

"Night, Dad! Night, Carole!" Kurt said cheerfully.

When they were gone, Quinn sat up and crossed her legs.

"So…what should we do now?"

**:**

It was hours later, nearing four o'clock in the morning, when they began to crash. Foam pads were lined up on the floor, sleeping bags were unrolled, and the bathroom saw a steady stream of occupants changing into pajamas.

Finn was sleeping in his bed, but Kurt had given his own up to Artie, insisting that he had to serve as the buffer between the boy and girl halves of the room anyway. When everyone was ready, he turned out the lights and positioned himself between Mercedes and Sam.

They told ghost stories until they fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So this one has some bullying of a sexual nature, as well as language. Also, fun fact: most of this is the very first thing I ever wrote for this story!

* * *

**9**

Somehow, Kurt made it through the rest of the weekend without being subjected to Finn's talk/lecture.

Kurt and Mercedes spent most of Saturday shopping. Finn was out with Rachel, repairing their relationship, and by the time he got back that night, Kurt was already asleep. The next day there was football on TV and homework to be done, and Finn was distracted. By that evening, when he'd finally remembered, Kurt was Skyping with James. Then there were showers, and Kurt's moisturizing routine, and it just didn't happen.

It wouldn't have changed what happened the next day, anyway.

**:**

"I'm so ready for winter to be over," Mercedes groaned, leaning against the locker next to Kurt's.

Her friend grinned and squirted some lotion onto his hands. "I know. This dry weather is seriously interfering with my skin's well-being. But it isn't even March yet."

"We could at least get more than all this gray! It's so…bleah."

Kurt snorted and shut his locker, offering his friend his arm and singing softly. "_I'm gonna soak up the sun…_"

"Aw, hell to the naw! You are _not _crooning Sheryl Crow at me, boy!"

"_Gonna __tell everyone to lighten up…_"

"Don't make me hurt you!"

**:**

Kurt tried not to think about Karofsky. Just remembering the second kiss made him feel sick, and it had taken all his willpower not to text Blaine right after it had happened. He couldn't rely on Blaine anymore; he'd been ignorant to lay so much weight on the Dalton boy in the first place.

Half of him just wanted to out Karofsky, scream it to the whole world. The other half remembered how hard it had been to come out, and how hard it had been every day since then. He just couldn't do that, not to anyone. It had to be their decision.

"Kurt? Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt shook himself out of his thoughts and looked over at Tina, who was waving a hand in front of his face.

"Yes?"

"We're here. At your English class," she clarified. "You okay? You look a little pasty."

He smiled. "I'm just tired. Maybe I'll pull a Puck, go sleep in the nurse's office for a period or two," he joked. "You' d better get going, you'll be late to Bio."

She shifted the books in her arms and grinned. "Yeah, okay. See you later!"

As she hurried off, Kurt reached for the doorknob.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and he tensed, heart dropping.

"I need to talk to you," Karofsky murmured.

Kurt swallowed and turned around, stepping out of the jock's grasp.

"I don't _want _to talk to you. I have to go to class." He was proud that his voice did not waver even though his heart was pounding fiercely.

"Too bad." Karofsky placed a hand on his back and steered him firmly down the hall. Kurt looked around desperately, hoping one of the glee kids would be out in the halls, but they passed very few people, and no one gave Kurt a second glance.

"I'm _not _taking orders from you-" Kurt began, about to break free, but Karofsky opened a door and shoved him inside, and Kurt was horrified to discover it was the locker room. The site of his first look into Dave Karofsky's messed-up mind.

Kurt backed up as Karofsky stepped closer, his eyes raking up and down Kurt's body. It felt very revealing and Kurt's face reddened.

"This is your fault, Hummel," Karofsky said, his voice full of anger. "It's your fault I feel like this. You just have to go around, flaunting everything, all the time…" He reached out and his hand brushed the top of Kurt's head before the countertenor leapt backward.

"You can't push me around like this!" Kurt shouted, eyes blazing in fury. "I am _not _your _toy!_ Just because you refuse to admit you're gay-"

"I am _not _a homo!" Karofsky growled, clenching his fists.

Kurt's eyes darkened. "Get the hell out of my way," he said coldly, clenching his fist tighter around the strap of his bag.

Karofsky grinned suddenly. "And if I won't?"

"I wasn't asking."

Kurt took a confident step forward; Karofsky mirrored his movement, effectively blocking the way out.

"You're not going anywhere just yet."

Kurt responded by raising his hands to push his obstacle out of the way; Karofsky grabbed his arm, causing his bag to fall to the floor.

Kurt cried out in surprise and pain. "What is your problem?" he yelled.

The next thing he knew, Karofsky had him pressed up against the lockers. Kurt tried to shove him back, but the stronger boy pinned his wrists above his head and pressed against him, and suddenly Kurt couldn't move, and he could feel Karofsky's hard-on against his leg.

He was going to be sick.

For a moment, their eyes locked—Karofsky's full of a frightening lust, Kurt's terrified.

Kurt swallowed. "Get off me." He whispered, ignoring the way his voice wobbled. "Get-"

And then he gasped, because Karofsky had lunged forward and pressed his lips to Kurt's neck. Kurt shivered and shut his eyes as the teen nibbled gently, but he could still feel Karofsky's grin of triumph as Kurt's body unwillingly responded.

"No-" Kurt said, feebly trying to pull away, but Karofsky had him completely immobilized, and Kurt heard soft moans and mewling noises and _hated _that he knew they were coming out of his own throat.

The intensity of the bites deepened, and Kurt's eyelids fluttered.

"_No_!" he gasped, squirming. Karofsky clamped his free hand over Kurt's mouth, stifling the other teen's weak protests.

"You know you like it," he murmured, his breath hot. He licked the shell of Kurt's ear and Kurt cringed.

Tears streamed down the smaller teen's face; he wanted nothing more than to die right then, to curl in on himself and shrivel under the fluorescent lighting. Karofsky's hips began to grind against him, and Kurt whimpered as the bully's hand moved away from his face and crept downward, stroking his neck, his chest, his thighs.

He tugged fruitlessly at his wrists but Karofsky's fingers only dug in tighter. Kurt couldn't do it; he couldn't summon a scream and he couldn't get away.

_Concentrate on something else…_

He forced his mind to wander, lifting away from his situation. He concentrated briefly on the pain in his wrists, which he knew would definitely be bruised. He floated out of himself and into the halls of McKinley where_ oh my God, he just gave me a hickey _Mercedes would be in English, and he should be there, too and _what the fuck is he doing?_

Because Karofsky had pulled him away from the wall and forced him onto the floor and Kurt _panicked._

_Not here, not now, not him! _

He began to squirm, lashing out. He opened his mouth to scream but a big, meaty hand squeezed his throat, inhibiting his vocal chords and causing him to gasp in search of air.

Then the most welcome sound in the entire world rent the air—the bell rang.

Karofsky froze. Then he looked down at the sobbing teenager below him, and he leaned down, inches away from Kurt's petrified face, and glared.

"You tell anyone about this, and I will _kill _you. Do you understand, fag?" Kurt had shut his eyes and didn't answer. Karofsky slapped him on the cheek and Kurt's eyes flew open. "What was that?"

Kurt nodded.

And then Karofsky was gone, leaving Kurt shaking violently on the floor, wrenching sobs tearing his body apart.

_Too close._

And he lurched to a cubicle and vomited into the toilet.


	10. Chapter 10

**10**

Mr. Schue frowned at his students. "Has anyone seen Kurt?"

Glee had begun almost a quarter of an hour ago, but their recently returned member had yet to make an appearance.

"I was supposed to walk with him from English, but he never showed up," Mercedes said, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"He said he might go to the nurse, maybe he's there," Tina said uncertainly.

Finn stood up. "I'm gonna go look for him."

On cue, John Mellencamp's "Pink Houses" began playing from Finn's pocket.

"Don't say a word," he warned, blushing a little at his friends' snickers. He took the call. "Kurt, where are you?"

"_Can you come get me?_" Kurt's voice was small, and Finn frowned.

"What's wrong? Where are you?"

Mercedes stood, flitting instantly to his side. "What is it?" she mouthed. He shook his head at her.

"_In—in the locker room."_

By now, Finn was aware of the entire club surrounding him, trying to listen in on the call.

"That's right down the hall…can you walk? Are you hurt?"

There was an odd sound, like someone sucking on a straw, and Finn realized with a start that Kurt was crying.

"_I'm scared._"

That was all the answer Finn needed.

"I'll be right there. Sit tight, okay?"

"_Yeah._"

Finn hung up and, ignoring the outburst of questions from his gleemates, pushed through to Mr. Schue.

"He's in the locker room. I think something's really wrong."

Will looked troubled. "Let's go," he said. He turned to the others. "Wait here."

Most of the kids reluctantly sat back down, but Mercedes shook her head and joined them.

"I'm coming with you," she said resolutely, and the three practically ran down the hallway to Kurt's location.

Finn pushed open the door, stepping inside carefully.

"Kurt?" he called, his voice sounding thin in the concrete room.

"Here," was the hoarse reply, coming from one of the bathroom stalls.

They moved in that direction to find Kurt huddled by the toilet, his head buried in his knees and his arms wrapped around the back of his head.

"What happened?" Finn asked, kneeling next to his stepbrother.

"Who's with you?"

"Mr. Schue and Mercedes," he replied, glancing back at them. Mr. Schue looked concerned; Mercedes, stricken.

"I tried to stop him," Kurt mumbled, sniffling.

"What?" Finn asked, a sick feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"You believe me, don't you? That I didn't want it? That I fought back?" They could barely make out his voice, muffled as it was, but the words sent a collective chill around the room.

"Of course I believe you. Kurt, can you look at me?"

There was a long pause; then:

"Don't freak out."

And he uncurled his legs and arms and looked up at them. His neck was covered in little swollen red marks, some already turning purple. There was a red mark across one cheek and they could see that his wrists, too, were beginning to bruise.

Mercedes gasped; Finn growled; Mr. Schue just stared. Kurt's expression crumpled under their gazes and he looked down again.

"I didn't want it," he repeated softly.

**:**

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in Mr. Schue's office, Mercedes and Finn flanking Kurt, who was sipping at a cup of water. Mercedes was holding tightly to Kurt's hand as if she would never let go, and Finn's hand was on Kurt's shoulder.

"Can you tell me what happened, Kurt?" Mr. Schue asked, leaning over his desk and watching his student carefully.

"He said he'd kill me if I told," Kurt murmured, and Mercedes had to choke back a sob.

"Kurt…" Finn began, but Kurt wasn't listening.

_"You can refuse to be the victim."_

Blaine's words from months ago echoed through his head. That hadn't worked out so well then, but in a way, Blaine had been right after all. If Karofsky got away with this, it would be because Kurt was too afraid to stop him.

And he wasn't going to be a coward.

He took a deep breath.

"Karofsky." And he told the story from the beginning, all about the first kiss and the real reason he'd left McKinley in the first place. He told about the constant fear and the winking and the second, more invasive attack the Friday before. As he spoke, his pace quickened and his pitch rose higher. "…and then today he forced me into the locker room and he held me up against a locker and he started…well…" his gaze dropped to the floor. "You can see what he did. And then-" He let out a strangled sob and gulped. "He…he pushed me to the floor and covered my mouth but the bell rang and he couldn't do anything else and he told me that if I told he'd kill me but I can't let him keep doing this to me I-"

"_Kurt._"

He became aware that Mercedes was holding him against her chest, silent tears spilling down her cheeks, and that he was shaking violently. Finn's fists were clenching and unclenching in his lap. Mr. Schue was kneeling in front of them, his eyes stormy with anger.

"Have you told _anyone _about this?"

Kurt nodded slowly. "I told Blaine." And then he gulped and tears once again spilled down his face.

Mr. Schue straightened. "Right. Okay. I'm going to go get Ms. Pills—Howell, okay? You two," he looked pointedly at Mercedes and Finn, "stay here with him."

As if they were going anywhere.

As soon as the door closed, Finn jumped up and began pacing back and forth.

"That son-of-a-bitch!" He shouted, kicking Mr. Schue's trash can against the wall. "He is going to be sorry he _ever _messed with us!" He punched the glass window with a bang.

Kurt shuddered.

"Finn!" Mercedes said firmly. "_Stop_. You're scaring him."

Finn dropped back into his chair and sniffled.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "So, so sorry, Kurt."

**:**

Will returned with a very grim-looking Emma in tow.

She waved Finn out of the way and took his vacated seat, rubbing circles on Kurt's back until he'd calmed down.

"Kurt," she said very firmly. "This was _not _your fault. I need to make sure you understand that."

"I...I understand," he said quietly.

"Do you?" she asked.

He took a breath and then looked directly at her, some of that familiar defiance present in his gaze. "I've said it before, and I'm saying it now. I'm proud to be different."

She smiled. "I'm glad to hear that." She hesitated. "Kurt, I'm going to need to call your parents so we can go to Principal Figgins."

Kurt nodded. "I know."

She stood and squeezed his shoulder. "Will, I'll call when everyone gets here."

Mr. Schue nodded and Emma slipped out.

"Mercedes, would you go back to class and tell the others—tell them—"

"Tell them the truth," Kurt said, his tone resigned but certain as he looked at his best friend. "They're going to find out, and I'd rather they hear it straight than through rumors."

Mercedes nodded reluctantly and gave Kurt one last hug before she, too, left the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**11**

Burt Hummel was changing the oil in a customer's car when the phone rang. He didn't make a move to get it; Ed was in the office and he answered after two rings, as was their custom.

A moment later his coworker called to him.

"Hey, Burt, it's for you! Some counselor from McKinley!"

Burt swiped at his hands with a rag and hurried to the extension. Kurt's school wouldn't call unless it was important, and with his son being who he was, Burt always assumed the worst. Especially considering the recent problems with Paul Karofsky's kid.

"Yeah, Burt Hummel speaking."

"_Mr. Hummel? This is Emma Howell, I'm the guidance counselor at your sons' school?_"

"Yeah, has something happened? Is Kurt okay? Finn?" He realized belatedly that the call could be about his stepson as well.

"_They're both all right, but Kurt is a little shaken. You-_"

"What happened?" Burt asked more urgently, already searching for his car keys on the messy desk.

There was a beat. "_I'm afraid your son was sexually assaulted._"

Burt dropped the phone, not bothering to pause when it missed the receiver, and bolted out of the office with his coat billowing out from one hand.

"Ed, I gotta go! Watch the shop for me!"

He leapt inside his truck and began dialing Carole's number.

**:**

The nervous chatter filling the choir room cut off abruptly as Mercedes rejoined her friends.

"What's going on?" Rachel demanded.

Mercedes stood in the middle of the room and crossed her arms.

"This is really hard to say," she began, a lump forming in her throat as she remembered Kurt's terrified, vulnerable state. "But he wanted me to tell you." She inhaled a shaky breath. "Karofsky's been sexually harassing Kurt ever since he came back. Since even before he left." There was an outbreak of angry mumbling, which Mercedes cut off by clearing her throat. "And today…today he tried to rape him."

It had exactly the effect she expected.

Every single person in the room jumped to his or her feet (except Artie) and began shouting.

Puck began flinging out expletives and charged toward the door, which Mercedes hurried to block.

"Where are you going?"

"To find the shithead and beat him senseless!" Puck growled. Santana nodded furiously and there was a chorus of yeahs.

"That isn't going to fix anything…" Mercedes began, but even she knew she didn't sound convincing. The truth was, her shock was rapidly being replaced by fury. Hadn't Kurt been through enough? How _dare _someone try to take something so important from her best friend!

"Out of the way," Mike commanded, and Mercedes relented, squeezing through the door first as the entire Glee club rushed down the hallway.

**:**

Burt was furious.

No, he was beyond furious. He was _murderous_.

To think of someone hurting his son, his Kurt, his little boy…He clamped his hands around the steering wheel and pressed harder on the pedal.

Next to him, Carole kept silent, although her face was streaked with tears. Kurt was her son now, too, and it disgusted her to think that there were people so close to home, at the _high school_, no less, who would want to take advantage of him.

They reached McKinley in record time. Burt slammed the car door and stalked into the building, Carole on his heels.

Burt knew exactly where the principal's office was and headed that way immediately.

What neither of them expected was to turn the corner into a mini-riot.

**:**

It wasn't hard to find Karofsky. He was, as usual, skipping class, roaming the halls with a small band of his goons.

"_Hey!_" Puck shouted.

The bullies turned, mildly surprised to find almost the entire group of misfit singers facing them.

Karofsky smirked. "Can we help you?"

"You should have stayed away from Kurt!" Sam seethed.

Karofsky's smile slipped. "Oh, yeah? And what exactly did he tell you?"

"We know what you did to him!" Brittany yelled.

"I'm going to murder that _fa-"_

His words were cut off when Mike's fist slammed into his jaw. A split-second of stillness followed, before all hell broke loose.

The glee club had the advantage in number, but the hockey players were bigger. Mercedes attacked Azimio, fingernails digging into his skin. Sam and Mike zeroed in on Karofsky. Santana, Brittany, and Tina were giving as good as they got, and even Artie managed to roll over someone's foot. Rachel and Quinn had to hold a straining Puck back.

"You'll go back to juvie!" Quinn reminded him, latching onto his right arm.

"I don't care!" he shouted, trying to pull away. He'd nearly gotten free when a shrill whistle split the air.

"HEY!"

Coach Sylvester was standing in the hallway, hands on her hips and her eyes sparking anger.

"_What _is going on here?"

"We were wondering the same thing," said another voice, and heads swiveled to see Burt Hummel and Carole Hudson-Hummel on the other side of the fray.

Reluctantly, they all stepped back, wiping bloody noses or cradling injured limbs.

"We're taking this to the principal's office," Sue said, sounding immensely pleased. She waved her hand imperiously and everyone followed like a procession.

**:**

Principal Figgins was extremely surprised to see the large group of people trying to crowd into his office. He'd only been expecting David Karofsky and the Hummel parents; Kurt, Finn, Mr. Schue, Ms. Howell, and Mr. Karofsky were seated on the couches, and the office was already too full.

"Principal Figgins, these students were rioting in the hallways," Coach Sylvester announced proudly, gesturing at the ragtag group. "I suggest detention and possible lynching to follow."

"Sue, I can't deal with this right now," the principal said.

Sue's eyes fell on the people already in the office. And for once, she was completely speechless.

"Oh," she said. "Well, then. We'll come back later." And she began to herd the group back out. Burt and Carole pushed through.

"Kurt!" Burt said in relief, fighting against the burning rage he felt flare up at the sight of his slightly battered son.

"Dad!" Kurt fell into his father's arms, burying his face into a broad shoulder.

"Mr. Karofsky!" Principal Figgins called after the retreating mob. "You stay here, young man!"

Kurt stiffened at the name.

"It's okay," Burt said softly.

Karofsky stomped back inside. He didn't look at Kurt as he sat next to his father.

Figgins turned to Finn. "Mr. Hudson, now that your parents have arrived, I'm going to ask you to wait outside."

Finn looked as though he wanted to argue, but something in Kurt's face stopped him. He nodded and stood, allowing his mother and Burt to sit on either side of Kurt.

"I'll be waiting," he said quietly, and shut the door behind himself.

Figgins was solemn.

"This is a very serious matter…"

**:**

"We were just standing up for Kurt," Quinn said to Sue as soon as they were all back outside. "I-"

"Shut your pie-hole," Sue cut her off. Her gaze was unusually understanding. "Maybe we'll just let Figgins forget about this one, hm?" she said, winking. "Now get back to class, all of you, or that detention will become a reality!"

"Wow," Artie said as they headed back to the choir room, having ascertained that none of them needed to see the nurse. "Guess she _can_ be nice."

"I hope Kurt's okay," Mercedes mumbled, and Tina pulled her close for a hug.


	12. Chapter 12

**12**

"Now, I need to hear the entire story," Figgins said sternly, looking at Kurt. "Mr. Hummel, if you would tell us what happened from your point of view?"

_There is no point of view! _Kurt thought furiously. _What happened, happened._

But he looked at his dad, who nodded encouragingly. Carole squeezed his hand, which he hadn't even noticed her taking, and this gave him the strength to tell the story as he'd told it to Mr. Schue, Finn, and Mercedes not long ago. He didn't look at Karofsky once, but he could feel the jock's eyes burning holes into the side of his head.

As he reached the end of the tale, he exhaled a silent sigh of relief, even though he was also feeling slightly sick again and terribly exposed to all the other people in the room. The way he could feel his father's anger growing didn't help calm his nerves.

"Schue, you can confirm these details?"

Mr. Schue had been watching Kurt in concern. He turned to the principal.

"I can confirm that this is exactly what Kurt told me an hour ago when I found him in the boy's locker room, with those marks on his face and neck."

Figgins nodded and addressed Kurt again. "Mr. Hummel, you did not mention David Karofsky's first assault to Principal Sylvester before Mr. Karofsky's expulsion. Why not?"

Kurt swallowed. "Because he threatened to kill me."

"Did anyone know about what happened?"

"Only Blaine Anderson. He goes to Dalton Academy."

"Which you attended for three months."

"Is this a trial?" Burt asked suddenly, half-rising from his seat.

"Mr. Hummel—"

"Because it's pretty clear to me what happened to my son and I don't appreciate these irrelevant questions being asked."

"Dad…" Kurt pleaded, tugging at his sleeve. "Please. It's okay."

"I am just trying to get the facts," Figgins said unapologetically.

"Why don't we hear David's side of the story," Emma suggested diplomatically, although it was clear from the slight curl to her lip that she didn't think much about what Karofsky might have to say.

Burt dropped back onto the couch and glared at Karofsky.

"Mr. Karofsky?" Figgins asked, turning to the sullen figure.

Karofsky looked at Kurt for the first time. Their eyes locked briefly, and Kurt shivered and looked away. The look in those eyes was dark and frightening.

"He's lying," Karofsky said simply.

"Would you care to elaborate on this statement?"

"_He _kissed _me_!"

Kurt jumped up. "That isn't true!"

"Oh, yeah?" Karofsky sneered. "After the way you kept trying to mack on Hudson last year, it isn't surprising you'd try to get your hands on every guy in school!"

"I am _not _a pervert, unlike _some _people!" Kurt screeched, his voice lifted to an impossible pitch.

"Kurt!"

Burt tried to calm his son down while Mr. Schue stepped between the two boys, frowning at Karofsky.

"If that's true, Dave, then how do you explain the marks on Kurt's neck? He didn't give those to himself."

"Self-defense," Karofsky grunted, but weakly. He had no real response.

"You wanna try that again?"

"Schue," Figgins warned, wiping wearily at his forehead.

"Well, this is ridiculous!" Will exclaimed. "It's more than obvious what's happened here and to be frank, I don't think you're handling this situation well at all!"

"Those jocks have always pushed Kurt around," Burt agreed fiercely, rising again to his feet. "And this school has done next to nothing to stop it!"

Karofsky snorted. "Maybe if he didn't dress like a fairy all the time…"

The office momentarily descended into chaos as Burt lunged, Carole and Kurt both jumped to their feet, Will rushed forward to pull Burt back, and Emma and Figgins tried to call for peace.

"All right, break it up!" Megaphone in hand, Sue pushed her way to the center of the knot. "That's enough!"

"Sue, you can't be in here," Figgins said wearily.

"I beg to differ. It's in my contract. Oh, William, there you are, I mistook you for a bald guy with a hedgehog clinging to his cranium."

Will rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored the woman, insuring Burt was settled down before turning to look at Emma.

"Are you okay?"

She looked a little shocked, but nodded and straightened her brooch.

"Fine, Will."

Mr. Karofsky turned to his son. "David, tell me the truth. Did you do that to Kurt? Is there something you've been hiding from your mother and I?"

Karofsky was still glaring at Kurt. "I'm not a homo," he repeated his denial from earlier.

"This is ridiculous!" Burt thundered.

Kurt couldn't take it anymore. He clenched his fists and screwed his eyes shut, willing the whole situation to be some kind of nightmare.

He felt himself being pulled to his feet.

"Come on, Porcelain."

He opened his eyes to see Coach Sylvester guiding him into the outer office.

"What—"

"You don't need to be near that creep anymore. I'll make sure justice is done. Hey, Frankenteen!" Finn looked up, surprised, from where he'd taken a seat by the secretary's desk. He stood when he saw his stepbrother.

"Kurt—"

"Take custody of this one," Sue spoke over him, giving Kurt a little push. "I'm returning to the fray." She turned and marched back inside.

Kurt dropped into the chair next to Finn's, and the taller teenager slowly sat back down.

"What's happening?" he asked.

Kurt shook his head wordlessly and without warning his face crumpled and tears spilled down his cheeks. He buried his face in his hands.

Finn was startled. Carefully, he hooked an arm around his brother's shoulders. When Kurt leaned into his side, he bit his lip and tried to remember what he did when Rachel cried.

But Kurt wasn't Rachel, and Rachel had never had this happen to her.

He swallowed. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's gonna be okay…"


	13. Chapter 13

**13**

Whatever was going on in the principal's office was taking a while.

Kurt had fallen silent, still leaning against Finn's shoulder with his eyes shut. If Finn didn't know better, he'd have thought his stepbrother had dozed off.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a mass text to the glee club that he and Kurt were sitting outside and didn't know what was happening at the moment, but he would let them know when any of that changed.

The replies were instantaneous.

_Mercedes: U better b taking good care of my boy!_

_Puck: we need to kick some ass?_

_Rachel: Hope everything turns out ok! Tell Kurt my dads are available if he needs to talk to someone._

_Quinn: Coach went back in. She'll handle it._

_Artie: time for a lean on me style intervention…_

_Brittany: give kurt a kiss 4 me!_

_Santana: Ignore Brit._

He had to smile at the last two texts, but his grin disappeared when the door finally opened and Burt and his mom came out, both wearing grim expressions.

Kurt bolted upright, proving Finn's guess that he hadn't been asleep.

"What happened?" he asked tentatively.

Burt removed his cap and sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"They've expelled Karofsky again, pending a hearing by the school board. That cheerleading coach said we might be able to file criminal charges as well."

Kurt shook his head. "I don't want to," he said quietly. "I just want to forget this ever happened."

"Look, Kurt—"

"_No, _Dad. Please, can we just go home?"

Kurt's eyes had filled with tears again, and his hands were shaking slightly.

Carole bent over and pulled her stepson into a hug.

"Of course we can."

**:**

"Finn, please go away. I'm not going to crumble into a million pieces, you know."

They were back home in the basement. Kurt had taken an exceptionally long shower, muttering something about feeling tainted. Finn didn't blame him—in the interests of finally telling the truth, Kurt had not held back in his explanation of Karofsky's treatment of him during the assault. Finn thought if he had been groped like that, he'd need therapy.

Now Kurt was sitting at his vanity, rubbing some sort of ointment on his neck, wincing occasionally. The bruise on his face had grown more prominent, as had the wounds on his wrists.

He looked like…like a survivor of sexual assault.

"I'm just…worried about you," Finn said awkwardly.

Kurt sighed, squinting into the mirror. "And I'm grateful, really. But I just want to be alone right now."

Finn hesitated. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm not okay yet. But I will be."

It wasn't the answer Finn wanted, but at least it sounded like the truth. He sighed and turned to head up the stairs, when Kurt stopped him.

"Finn?"

Finn turned to see Kurt looking at him the mirror.

"Yeah?"

Kurt's eyes dropped to his hands, laid flat on the table.

"Was this what it was like for you last year?"

The pit of Finn's stomach dropped, but he feigned innocence.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know…" Kurt's voice was low and ashamed. "When I…had a crush on you. Is this what it felt like?"

"You never assaulted me, Kurt," Finn said quietly. "You could never do that."

"I'm not so sure," Kurt whispered.

Finn stepped forward. "Kurt, _listen_ to me. You aren't him. You are _not _Karofsky."

"_Is this what it felt like?_" Kurt hissed, suddenly spinning to look his stepbrother straight in the eye, his own eyes jewel-bright.

"No!" Finn exploded. "No! _Yes_, it creeped me out, but I never felt assaulted. You never hurt me, Kurt."

Kurt eyed him suspiciously before turning his back on the tall teen.

"I always fall too hard," he said flatly.

**:**

An hour later, the doorbell rang. Burt and Carole were holed up in their bedroom, so Finn went to get it.

Mercedes stood on the porch. She stepped inside before Finn could react, sliding her shoes and coat off and heading straight for the basement.

Finn gaped after her for a moment before hurrying to cut her off.

"He wants to be alone!"

Mercedes turned, eyebrows raised in a way she must have learned from Kurt.

"He doesn't want to be with _you_," she corrected. "Honestly, Finn. Did you really think a little text—'Karofsky expelled, Kurt wants to be alone'—was going to stop me? My boy needs me right now, and I'm going to be here for him."

She opened the door.

The sounds of singing drifted up the stairs. Mercedes and Finn both froze as Kurt's haunting voice reached their ears.

_"I heard there was a secret chord  
__That David played and it pleased the Lord  
__But you don't really care for music, do you?  
__It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah"_

Mercedes headed down the stairs without another word. Finn followed more slowly.

_"Your faith was strong but you needed proof  
__You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you  
__She tied you to a kitchen chair  
She broke your throne, she cut your hair  
__And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah"_

Kurt was curled up on his bed, pillow hugged against his chest as he stared at the opposite wall. Mercedes sat down next to him. Finn stopped at the bottom of the stairs, watching them.

_"Maybe I have been here before  
I know this room; I've walked this floor  
I used to live alone before I knew you  
__I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
Love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah"_

Finn's heart broke a little as his brother's melancholy voice filled the room. Mercedes began running a hand through Kurt's hair. He didn't react at all.

_"There was a time you let me know what's really going on below  
But now you never show it to me, do you?  
__Remember when I moved in you  
The holy dark was moving too, and every breath we drew was Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah"_

Mercedes nodded over at him, and Finn slowly made his way to the bed, sinking onto the end of it as Mercedes pulled Kurt into her lap, continuing to stroke his hair. He kept singing, eyes dry but dark with anguish.

_"Maybe there's a God above  
And all I ever learned from love was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you  
__And it's not a cry you can hear at night  
It's not somebody who's seen the light  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah_

_Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah  
__Hallelujah…"_

_

* * *

_A/N: Song was "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohen.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: I just wanted to take a second to let you guys know I really do appreciate all the reviews. I haven't responded individually because I figured you'd all rather get new chapters that much more quickly. Honestly, I've never updated a story every day like this before, and I know it's thanks to you all! You guys are awesome :)

* * *

**14**

Kurt didn't go to school the next day.

His father was taking the day off work, but Kurt didn't want to talk to him for fear of being coerced into a visit to the police station, so he stayed in his room, reading, listening to music, and doing aimless things on his computer.

After over two hours of this, he was bored silly.

So he began Facebook-stalking Blaine.

Nothing had changed; there were several new posts on his Wall from other Dalton students, most of them Warblers. His relationship status was still 'Single.' His profile picture was the same adorable photo it had been when Kurt first friended him.

Before Kurt quite knew what he was doing, he had his phone in his hand and it was dialing a familiar number.

Blaine answered after three rings.

"_Hello?_"

Kurt's mouth opened, but nothing came out. He hadn't heard Blaine's voice in over a week. The smooth timbre sent warm shivers down his spine. He hated that the boy could still do that to him.

"_Kurt? Are you there?_"

He shook himself into action.

"Yeah, yeah, it's me."

"_What's up?_"

And how could Blaine be so nonchalant, after what had happened between them? Even as Kurt loved Blaine, he hated him for his ability to act like none of it mattered.

Suddenly, Kurt wasn't so sure calling down to Westerville had been the best idea. But Blaine had always been able to make Kurt feel better, and he needed that right now.

"I suppose Karofsky decided he'd been a gentleman long enough."

There was a beat; then Blaine's voice, lower now.

"_What did he do?_"

And Kurt told him.

**:**

"How's Kurt?" was the greeting Finn met as he entered the choir room for glee.

He'd already been asked this question throughout the day by most of his friends. This time it was Mr. Schue watching him expectantly.

"He's okay," Finn said carefully. "I mean, it's Kurt. He won't let this keep him down for long."

"I hope you're right. Let him know, if there's anything I can do…"

Finn nodded halfheartedly. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

He knew that his stepbrother, while fond of their teacher, did not share the pseudo father-son relationship with him that Finn did. He also knew Kurt had been disappointed by the way Mr. Schue had handled the bullying in the past.

Mr. Schue clapped his hands, capturing the club's attention.

"Okay, guys, this week's assignment!"

Rachel's hand shot into the air.

"I had a thought for Regionals—"

"No one _cares_!" Mercedes burst out from the back row, and everyone turned to her, surprised.

"Mercedes? Is everything okay?" Quinn asked.

Mercedes snorted. "Yeah, everything's _great_. My best friend is just huddled up at home, scared of some Neanderthal jerk who tried to _rape _him. But other than that, there are no problems here. None at all."

Mr. Schue sighed and leaned against the piano, running a hand down his face.

"Okay, why don't we take a break from planning for Regionals?" he suggested, crossing his arms. "What would _you _like to do?"

They looked at each other, surprised. Mr. Schue rarely ever asked for their opinions. Even Rachel was speechless.

Mike raised his hand.

"Remember last year when we did that assignment about finding a song that expressed where we were in our lives?"

"Wasn't that when I had laryngitis?" Rachel asked, frowning in distaste.

"And Kurt sang that John Mellencamp song?" Tina remembered, eliciting several laughs.

"He's a good kisser," Brittany said dreamily. "But he won't let me kiss him anymore."

"Yeah," Artie said as if the girls hadn't spoken. "A lot has changed since then. Maybe it would get rid of some of the tension and help us all express how we've been feeling?"

Mr. Schue nodded. "Anyone have any objections?" There were none, so the instructor shrugged. "Okay. Assignment for this week—pick a song that represents you as you are right now."

**:**

Kurt felt better after the phone call with Blaine. It was nice getting it all out to someone who was removed from the situation, and Blaine was a great listener.

They'd ended up discussing how things were at Dalton and in Lima, and the conversation had gone on for over an hour before Blaine had to go. It had been fairly comfortable—easy, the way things had been Before, and Kurt thought that if he and Blaine couldn't be _together _together, at least it seemed like they could be pretty good friends.

He was an hour into watching "Chicago" when his phone rang.

Figuring it was Mercedes or one of his other friends (since it was about time for glee club anyways), he answered without glancing at the caller ID.

"_Bonjour_, Kurt Hummel speaking."

"_Your voice is so sexy._"

Kurt froze. "Excuse me?"

The voice at the other end spoke in a husky tone, and Kurt's skin crawled.

"_You don't like it when I talk dirty to you?_"

"Who is this?"

The voice changed—grew sharp and angry and horribly, horribly familiar.

"_How about I talk straight, then? I warned you about what would happen if you told._"

"Karofsky," Kurt whispered.

"_That's right, _Kurt_. I gave you a chance to save yourself. I told you what I was going to do. And you didn't listen. You fucking _coward_._"

Karofsky sounded enraged, and Kurt began shaking, even though he knew he was safe in his basement with his dad somewhere upstairs.

"You—you don't get to do this to me. You've taken enough! You have no right…" he stuttered, terrified and furious and crushed all at the same time.

"_I have every right. You belong to _me_. Go ahead, tell your little gay friends about this call. They can't protect you from me. They didn't protect you last time. See you soon_."

There was a click and the line went dead. Kurt's hand convulsed around his phone; before he knew what he was doing, he had thrown it across the room, where it hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor. He collapsed on his bed, face buried in the pillow.

_'...But I simply cannot do it alone!'_


	15. Chapter 15

**15**

After school and basketball practice, Finn came home to find Kurt staring at the television, where the menu for one of those movie musicals was playing on a loop.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked, shrugging his backpack onto the floor by his bed.

Kurt switched the system off, rolling over to look at his stepbrother.

"Nothing. The movie just ended. How was school?"

"It was school. You know." Finn shrugged. "I brought your work home. Your dad says he hasn't seen you all day."

"I didn't feel like talking."

Finn nodded. "Everyone in glee asked about you."

Kurt sighed. "Great. I wish we could just forget about it."

"Kurt…"

"Finn…" Kurt imitated him, rolling his eyes and hopping off the bed, padding into the bathroom and shutting the door.

Finn tried not to think about how dark the bruise on Kurt's cheek had become, or the fact that it didn't look like Kurt had put any effort into his hair, makeup, or clothes that morning. Even for a day in, that wasn't like Kurt.

He flopped onto his bed and opened his backpack, pulling out a manila envelope of assignments and tossing it over to Kurt's side of the room. As he moved the bag, he noticed a familiar object half hidden under his nightstand. Frowning, he reached down and picked it up.

Kurt's phone.

"Hey, Kurt?" he called.

"What?"

"Why is your phone way over here?"

There was a pause. "I must have dropped it."

Finn's eyes narrowed. Right. Dropped it. From across the room.

He pursed his lips and stalked across the room, knocking on the bathroom door.

"We need to talk. _Now_."

The toilet flushed and there was the sound of water running in the sink. Then Kurt opened the door, blinking up at his stepbrother.

"Why?" he asked. "Give me my phone back."

Finn held the phone out of reach.

"I'm not kidding, Kurt."

Kurt snorted. "Stop trying to be intimidating." He attempted to step around Finn, but the taller teen grabbed his arm, and he blanched and pulled away. "Don't!"

Finn stepped back immediately. "Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"Please give me my phone," Kurt said softly.

Reluctantly, Finn surrendered the device, which Kurt pocketed immediately.

"What happened?" Finn asked.

"Nothing," Kurt said, attempting nonchalance as he sank onto the couch, leaning back and crossing his legs.

"…sometimes I throw my phone at walls, too."

Kurt stiffened. "I don't want to talk about it."

Finn rounded the couch and kneeled so he could look the other boy in the eye.

"You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If someone was threatening you? After what happened, Kurt…you wouldn't keep it a secret, right?"

Kurt met his gaze evenly. "Yes. I'd tell you."

**:**

Kurt insisted on returning to school the next day, despite the protests of the rest of his family.

"_He _won't be there," he pointed out. "And I don't want to miss anything important."

So he donned skinny jeans and a sweater with sleeves that covered his wrists, applied extra makeup to his cheek, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and led the way to the car.

**:**

Mercedes was worried about her friend.

She worried because his smile was halfhearted and he was too pale and he couldn't even summon a snarky comment when two blueberry slushies crashed over him at lunch.

"It's fine. I feel sort of inaugurated now, back as an official citizen of McKinley," Kurt said sarcastically as she helped him clean up in the girls' bathroom. "They were bound to be upset I got their leader expelled. Again."

"The whole school's buzzing with different versions of what happened," Mercedes mused, dabbing at Kurt's hair with a paper towel. "I wonder if they're doing this for themselves, to prove they aren't gay like he is, or if they honestly believe you threw yourself at him."

"Does it matter?" Kurt sighed. "I'm still the mud on the bottom of their last-season hiking boots. The only difference is that now Karofsky might find out what it feels like, too."

"Not here, he won't," Mercedes said firmly. "He isn't coming back here."

She had to bite her tongue as she cleaned Kurt's scarf off to keep from commenting on his bare neck. Some of those marks looked especially nasty. He was too busy reapplying concealer to notice her watching.

"Hey, 'Cedes?" he said suddenly. "If I told you something, could you keep it a secret?"

Her brain instantly started sending alarm bells.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "It would depend on what the secret was. If someone was going to get hurt, I wouldn't feel right not getting help."

Kurt nodded, taking his scarf from her.

"Thanks."

"Are you going to tell me?" she asked.

"Tell you what?"

**:**

Finn intercepted Mercedes as soon as she entered the choir room for glee.

"Kurt's hiding something."

Mercedes arched an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Stop doing that!" he exclaimed. "You look like _him_ when you do that!"

She smirked. "I know he's hiding something, but you know Kurt. It's impossible to get him to talk."

"Until _after _something bad happens," Finn agreed, huffing. "I'll never forgive myself it something else happens to him."

"Karofsky's gone. The other bullies are mean, but I doubt they're closeted gays with intense sexual urges. If we stick close, we can keep Kurt safe."

Kurt wandered in with Brittany then, so Finn took his seat next to Rachel and Mercedes dragged her friend to a couple of empty chairs in the middle.

Mr. Schue beamed at them.

"Okay, who wants to go first?"

Rachel popped out of her chair so fast it almost fell over. She stood before them all and smiled brightly.

"I've chosen a classic song to express my hopes and dreams for my imminent future beneath the bright lights of the city that never sleeps."

The music began.

_"Start spreading the news,  
__I'm leaving today  
__I want to be a part of it -  
__New York, New York.  
_

_These vagabond shoes  
__Are longing to stray  
__And step around the heart of it  
__New York, New York._

_I want to wake up in a city  
__That doesn't sleep  
__To find I'm king of the hill  
__Top of the heap._

_My little town blues  
__Are melting away  
__I'm gonna make a brand new start of it  
__In old New York._

_If I can make it there,  
__I'd make it anywhere  
__It's up to you,  
__New York, New York._

_New York, New York!_

_I want to wake up in a city  
__That doesn't sleep  
__To find I'm king of the hill  
__Head of the list  
__Cream of the crop  
__At the top of the heap._

_My little town blues  
__Are melting away  
__I'm gonna make a brand new start of it  
__In old New York._

_If I can make it there,  
__I'd make it anywhere  
__Come on, come through,  
__New York, New York!"_

Rachel's voice captured the song perfectly, and everyone applauded politely.

"Great job, Rachel!" Mr. Schue said warmly. "Who's next?"

To everyone's surprise, both Puck and Quinn rose to their feet.

"We're ready, Mr. Schue."

* * *

A/N: Song was "New York, New York" from _New York, New York._


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: So...how about that post-Superbowl episode? Wow. I don't even know what to think about Karofsky anymore!

* * *

**16**

Puck grabbed his guitar, slinging the strap over his shoulder as Quinn pulled two stools over. They sat down.

"I think the song will speak for itself," Quinn said, not looking at Sam. She nodded at Puck, who started them off.

_"I remember what you wore on the first day  
__You came into my life and I thought  
__'Hey, you know, this could be something'  
__'Cause everything you do and words you say  
__You know that it all takes my breath away  
__And now I'm left with nothing"_

Quinn smiled at him and crossed her ankles, never breaking eye contact as they went into the chorus together.

_"So maybe it's true  
__That I can't live without you  
__And maybe two is better than one  
__But there's so much time  
__To figure out the rest of my life  
__And you've already got me coming undone  
__And I'm thinking two is better than one"_

Kurt rolled his eyes at Finn in an 'I told you so' fashion, then glanced down at his phone, which had just vibrated.

He had a new text. Figuring it was Blaine, who had promised to send him little pick-me-ups throughout the day, he opened it.

_Unknown Number: Hey, sexy. Can't wait to get my hands on you in your skin-tight jeans. You want it._

Attached was a picture of Kurt himself heading into the school that morning.

He felt sick.

"Kurt?" Mercedes asked.

He couldn't breathe.

(Quinn) _"I remember every look upon your face"_

"Wanky," Santana purred, and Kurt jumped when he realized she'd been reading over his shoulder. "Hummel? What's wrong?"

(Puck) _"The way you roll your eyes  
__The way you taste  
__You make it hard for breathing"_

He knew he was hyperventilating. He barely felt it when his phone was suddenly pulled out of his limp fingers.

_Blaine. Think of Blaine. Your teenage dream—oh, God._

Karofsky had ruined that for him now.

(Quinn and Puck) "_'Cause when I close my eyes and drift away  
__I think of you and everything's okay  
__I'm finally now believing"_

"Oh, my God," Tina whispered. She'd been the one to take his phone. "Oh, my _God._"

(Quinn and Puck) _"And maybe it's true  
__That I can't live without you  
__And maybe two is better than one  
__But there's so much time  
__To figure out the rest of my life  
__And you've already got me coming undone—"_

"Stop!" Sam shouted, jumping up. His face was red. "Just _stop it_."

"Kurt!" Mercedes begged. "_Breathe_!"

Puck had stilled his guitar at Sam's outburst, so her screaming cut clearly through the room. Everyone who hadn't noticed the drama taking place turned immediately.

"Out of the way, Wheezy," Santana commanded, crouching in front of the panicking boy. "Everyone, back off!" Her tone was amazingly gentle and calm when she next spoke. "Okay, Kurt. I need you to take deep breaths. I'm going to count to ten. Breathe with me. One—two—three—four—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten. Good. It's okay."

Kurt's shaking slowly lessened, and he opened his eyes and fixed them on the Cheerio, continuing to take measured breaths.

"I'm sorry!" Quinn wailed, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry! Was it something in the song?"

"It was this," Tina said, handing Kurt's phone to Mr. Schue.

He read the message and looked back up at Kurt.

"Do you know who sent you this?" he asked.

Kurt gasped raggedly.

"Not yet!" Santana hissed softly, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

They waited silently.

"I'm okay," Kurt said finally, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Really. Thanks."

Santana sat down next to him and leaned back, puling a bottle of water from her pack and handing it over.

"How did you do that?" Finn asked her. His face was sheet-white. He looked like he really wanted to hug his stepbrother but was afraid to come closer.

"My mom has panic attacks sometimes. It's okay, Finn, you can come over now."

Finn approached slowly, settling into the seat on Kurt's other side and placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. The diva smiled weakly at him, taking another gulp of water.

"What's going on?" Artie asked, looking at Tina. Tina looked at Santana, who looked at Kurt, who looked at Mr. Schue, still holding the phone.

"It's Karofsky," he said dully. "He called me last night, said some things…I guess he's stalking me, too."

"You need to go to the police," Rachel said.

"They're the good guys. They'll help." Brittany smiled at him.

Kurt looked down. His hair fell over his eyes, un-moussed as it was from the slushie treatment earlier.

No one knew what to say.

"I'm sorry I interrupted the song," he said finally, without looking up from his knees. "It was really good."

Quinn and Puck exchanged a look.

"Thanks," Puck said finally.

"So…you're breaking up with me?" Sam asked quietly from the corner of the room, glancing sideways at Quinn. He seemed to have calmed down.

"I—I don't know," Quinn sighed. "I guess so." She twisted the promise ring off her finger and held it out. "I really do care about you…but I never got over Puck." She shot Finn a sad smile. "I never even got over Finn. I didn't get the chance to. I need time to figure things out. I'm sorry."

Sam pushed himself off the wall and stepped forward as Quinn dropped the ring into his hand. His eyes were resigned.

"I'm sorry, too. I pushed you before you were ready." He turned to their teacher. "Mr. Schue, can I be excused?"

Will nodded. "Why don't we end early today?" As everyone gathered their things, he added, "Kurt, stay back a few minutes, please."

Kurt sighed.

"I'll wait for you at your locker," Finn promised, shouldering his backpack and leaving with Rachel.

"So, Kurt," Mr. Schue began, taking a seat and gesturing down at the phone he still held. "We need to talk about why you didn't tell someone as soon as David Karofsky called you."

"How do you know I didn't?" Kurt asked, staring down at his hands.

"You wouldn't be here today if you'd told your father, and I know nobody in here knew. That kid from Dalton doesn't count. He can't help you from there. Kurt this is _really _serious. I think you need to go to the police."

"What could they do?"

"A restraining order, maybe? Something, anything. I'll tell you what you _will _do. You're going to tell your father as soon as you get out of here. Because I'm going to call him later to make sure you did. Okay?"

Kurt sighed and finally looked at the man next to him.

"Yes. Okay."

"Good." Mr. Schue handed the phone over and stood up. "If you ever need to talk to someone, my door is open."

"Yeah. Bye, Mr. Schue."

As the boy left the room, head held determinedly high, Will couldn't help but feel as though he'd somehow failed his student.

* * *

A/N: Song was "Two Is Better Than One" by Boys Like Girls, featuring Taylor Swift.


	17. Chapter 17

**17**

Predictably, Burt was furious when he heard about the phone call and text. He dragged Kurt to the police station right away to file a temporary restraining order.

Kurt took one look at the paperwork and sighed.

"Dad, what's the point? Karofsky's not some creepy old man, he's a kid! He'll get bored before this order even gets reviewed."

"Do you really believe that, Kurt?" his father asked forcefully, looking into his son's eyes. "Do you?"

_No. I'm terrified that he's going to come after me, I couldn't sleep last night, and I wanted to throw up when I saw his message. Is that what you want to hear?_

"Yes," Kurt replied firmly.

Burt shrugged and slammed a pen onto the table. "Well, I don't care. We're doing this. Hurry up, next stop is to get you a phone with a new number."

**:**

By the time they returned home that night, Kurt was exhausted.

He went through his evening routine in a trance, collapsing into bed without doing any of his homework.

Finn sat across the room on the couch, programming their friends' numbers into Kurt's new phone.

He hadn't spoken on the drive home that afternoon, perhaps unsure of what to say, and he wasn't speaking now, either.

"Finn?"

The tall teen half-turned, fingers still working.

"Almost done, if you needed it."

"No, I was…I was wondering…"

Finn paused, finally looking up. "What?"

"Could you…sing? It might help me fall asleep."

Finn blinked; then he smiled.

"Sure. I've been working on something for this week's assignment. How 'bout I try that?"

"Okay."

Finn settled back into the cushions, staring up at the ceiling.

_"Hey there Delilah  
__What's it like in New York City?  
__I'm a thousand miles away  
__But girl, tonight you look so pretty  
__Yes you do  
__Times Square can't shine as bright as you  
__I swear it's true_

_Hey there Delilah  
__Don't you worry about the distance  
__I'm right there if you get lonely  
__Give this song another listen  
__Close your eyes  
__Listen to my voice, it's my disguise  
__I'm by your side_

_Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__What you do to me"_

Kurt yawned and snuggled deeper under his covers.

_"Hey there Delilah  
__I know times are getting hard  
__But just believe me, girl  
__Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar  
__We'll have it good  
__We'll have the life we knew we would  
__My word is good_

_Hey there Delilah  
__I've got so much left to say  
__If every simple song I wrote to you  
__Would take your breath away  
__I'd write it all  
__Even more in love with me you'd fall  
__We'd have it all_

_Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me…"_

**:**

_"A thousand miles seems pretty far  
__But they've got planes and trains and cars  
__I'd walk to you if I had no other way  
__Our friends would all make fun of us  
__And we'll just laugh along because we know  
__That none of them have felt this way  
_

_Delilah, I can promise you  
__That by the time we get through  
__The world will never ever be the same  
__And you're to blame_

_Hey there Delilah  
__You be good and don't you miss me  
__Two more years and you'll be done with school  
__And I'll be making history like I do  
__You'll know it's all because of you  
__We can do whatever we want to  
__Hey there Delilah here's to you  
__This one's for you_

_Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__Oh it's what you do to me  
__What you do to me…"_

Rachel clapped the most enthusiastically as the last notes trailed off, bounding out of her seat to give her boyfriend a kiss.

"That was wonderful, Finn. Your voice truly captures the spirit of that song."

"Okay," Mr. Schue said, standing. "Great job, everyone. I think that's it for today. Some of you will perform tomorrow and the rest will finish up on Monday."

Sam was the first out the door; he'd been sitting on the very edge of the group today. Quinn spent the period alternating between shooting him guilty glances and glaring at Puck, who was responding willingly to Santana's usual flirting.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Tina asked Kurt as the two left the room with the rest of the group.

Kurt sighed. It was the thousandth time he'd been asked that question, it seemed.

"I'm _fine._"

And it almost felt like the truth now. With his new phone, he hadn't been harassed by Karofsky all day, and though he'd been on the lookout, he'd caught no sign of the hulking figure, either. Finn's singing had lulled him to sleep the night before and kept away the nightmares, too.

"You guys wanna come over to my house?" Mercedes asked Kurt, Artie, Brittany, Tina, and Mike as they trailed behind the rest of the group. "I could use some help with the English project."

"Couldn't we all," Artie groaned.

"We can't," Mike said apologetically, waving at himself and Tina. "Tonight's dim-sum."

"I'm actually beginning to think it's kind of a fun tradition," Tina smiled, hooking her arm through her boyfriend's. "But sometime this weekend?"

"Definitely." Mercedes waved at them as they veered off.

"Well, I'm in," Artie said. "Brit?"

"We have an English project?"

"So that's two yeses. Kurt?"

Kurt began to agree when he felt his pockets and stopped in the hall.

"I left my phone in the choir room!"

"I'll go get it," Mercedes began, but Kurt was already hurrying back.

"Wait there! I'll be two seconds!"

"Kurt!"

But he was already gone.

**:**

The choir room was silent; Mr. Schue had left. Thankfully, it was still unlocked, and Kurt slipped inside and headed for where he last remembered seeing his phone.

It wasn't there. He glanced over the surrounding chairs, bending to check under the legs, but he found nothing.

Maybe Mr. Schue had taken it?

There was a sudden squeak and thud as the door shut. Kurt turned, his heartbeat quickening and his worst fears confirmed as he saw the figure standing just behind him.

"Hey, Kurt."

This was very bad.

* * *

A/N: Song was "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Warning: Violence. Sexual assault. Also, the rating will be upped to M with the next chapter.

* * *

**18**

Kurt stepped back quickly, gathering his breath.

Karofsky lunged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and sending them both into the floor, hard. Kurt's head slammed against tile and he blacked out.

**:**

Mercedes shifted uneasily, her eyes trained down the hallway.

"We shouldn't have let him go alone!" she moaned.

"It's only been two minutes," Artie pointed out rationally, his hands tightening around the rims of his wheels anyway.

Brittany bit her lip. "You think we should—"

A sudden resounding crash echoed through the quiet school.

"Oh no."

Without another word, the three teenagers sprinted (and rolled) as quickly as they could toward the noise.

The door to the choir room was open, but a quick survey of the room showed it was empty. Two chairs were overturned.

"Kurt?" Mercedes called, as if expecting her friend to appear behind the drum set.

"I'll call him," Artie said, looking around as he pulled out his cell. It rang twice before someone picked up. "Kurt, where are—"

"Kurt can't come to the phone right now," a voice said darkly. There was a crash and the line went dead.

Mercedes' face was pale. "What…"

"Karofsky's got him," Artie said, his heart beginning to race.

"How did we miss them?" Mercedes shrieked, kicking over another chair and falling to her knees, sobbing. "He's gonna hurt him. He's gonna hurt him really bad."

Brittany sprinted into the hallway; there was the sound of the outside door opening and closing; a moment later, these sounds were repeated and the blonde raced back in, out of breath.

"I didn't see them," she said, "But Kurt's car isn't in the parking lot."

"They can't have gone far," Artie said, his fingers shaking as he dialed again on his phone.

**:**

Finn was driving Rachel home when his cell rang with "Proud Mary."

"Hey, Artie!"

"_Finn! You have to get back to the school!" _Artie's voice was hurried, scared, and Finn's heart dropped.

"What—"

_"Karofsky's got Kurt! I'm so sorry! You have to hurry, we've gotta find him."_

Finn's blood ran cold. His phone fell out of his hand and he turned the wheel sharply in a U-Turn, speeding back toward the school.

"Finn!" Rachel screeched, grabbing onto her seat as she was thrown against the window. "What's going on?"

"Call the police. Kurt's been kidnapped."

**:**

It was cold.

It was cold and he had a _killer _headache.

Kurt groaned and blinked, lifting a hand to the back of his head and wincing when he felt the crusted blood there.

_Where am I?_

Memories slowly filtered back into his brain, and a spear of fear shot through his chest. He sat up and yelped as pain sliced across his head. His vision blurred and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. Then he opened his eyes.

He was on the floor of some kind of small, rectangular, wooden building. The only light was coming through a small grimy window in the wall. Surrounding him were baskets filled with sports equipment, nets…there was something propped against the wall next to him, and he reached over. It was a baseball bat.

Having surmised that he was in some sort of equipment shed, and he was alone, Kurt shifted onto his hands and knees and crawled to the door. Groaning, he pulled himself to his feet, leaning against the wall for support, and pushed.

It didn't budge.

"Help," he croaked. "Help!"

His voice was weak, but he had the terrible feeling that even if it hadn't been, no one would have heard him.

"Please, somebody!" he begged, slamming his palm against the wood. Tears flew down his cheeks. "Please!"

He heard the clink of chains on the other side of the door and stumbled backward, not sure whether to call out again or get something to use as a weapon.

It didn't matter. The door swung open; Kurt squinted against the setting sunlight, which was cut off quickly as the door slammed shut again.

Karofsky leered at him. "You're awake."

Kurt gasped, stepping backward and crying out in surprise as he tripped over a wayward baseball glove and fell to the floor in a heap. His head swam and he gritted his teeth against the throbbing pain.

"What do you want?" he moaned, pressing his forehead to the cool floor.

Chains clinked again and Kurt glanced up, realizing in horror that his captor was securing the door from the inside.

Then he stalked over and grabbed Kurt's hair, yanking his head back. The countertenor whimpered.

"I want you to understand how I feel, Kurt. To pay for what you've made me into."

"I—I didn't—"

Karofsky backhanded him. "Don't _give _me that!" he yelled. "I know this is your fault, and now I've got you all alone and you are going to _shut up _and take what I give you!"

Kurt was sobbing now, curled up into a ball with his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach.

"It might even be kind of fun," Karofsky said, his tone now a quiet purr as he stroked Kurt's cheek. "You fags like this sort of thing, don't you?"

"N-n-n-no…" Kurt managed, flinching away from the bully's touch.

Karofsky chuckled and stood up, turning away briefly. Kurt took the opportunity and lurched to his original spot, fingers closing around the handle of the baseball bat. He pressed himself against the wall and held it out defensively.

"Stay away," he hissed, struggling to focus the two people in front of him into one.

Karofsky laughed. "I had a feeling you'd be a fighter. I think it's kind of hot." He held up a jump-rope. "And I'm prepared."

Kurt's face drained of any color it had left. He waved the bat.

"Just—just keep back."

The jock stepped forward instead.

"Give me the bat, Kurt," he commanded lightly, holding out a hand.

"No way in hell," Kurt said lowly.

Karofsky's face darkened as he took another step.

"Hummel. The bat. _Now._"

"No!"

The larger teen took another step forward; Kurt tried to swing but missed and the bat was pulled out of his hands. Then something hard smacked him in the stomach and he fell to the ground, the wind knocked out of him and a searing pain in his ribs.

He screamed as Karofsky bore down on him, kicking out wildly and connecting with the bully's shin. Karofsky cursed and his leg shot out in retaliation, catching Kurt hard in the side. Kurt screamed again, rolling away, but Karofsky pulled him back by the foot and punched him hard in the face.

His vision blackened for a moment and when he forced his way back to full consciousness Karofsky was straddling him and forcing his wrists together above his head.

"Stay still, slut," he growled as Kurt struggled.

"Don't do this…" he sobbed, kicking uselessly. "Please…"

"Keep begging, Kurt. It turns me on," Karofsky murmured, finishing Kurt's bindings with a knot and attaching them to a pipe in the wall with a second jump-rope.

Kurt clamped his mouth shut, but he couldn't stop the cries erupting out of his chest. He was shaking violently, absolutely terrified. He pulled at his wrists but they were bound too tightly. He was helpless.

Karofsky leaned over and shoved his tongue down Kurt's throat. Kurt squirmed, trying to turn his head away, but Karofsky caught his chin and held it roughly, biting his victim's tongue hard enough to draw blood. Slowly, he pulled away and backed up until he was sitting on Kurt's legs.

"Has anyone ever touched you here, Kurt?" he whispered, his fingers dancing over Kurt's groin.

Kurt stiffened. "Please…"

Karofsky squeezed. Kurt choked.

"You wore tight jeans today, Kurt. I'm proud of you." Big hands slid up Kurt's legs, caressing his thighs before reaching for the button.

Kurt screamed as loudly as he could.

But he knew no one was coming.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Warning: Violence. Rape. Disturbing images. PLEASE note that the rating has gone up to M!

* * *

**19**

It had taken only a quarter of an hour to gather all the glee kids back in the choir room, as those who had already left the school weren't far away. Another five minutes to locate Mr. Schue, who was talking with Mrs. Howell in her office. A minute more for Coach Sylvester to appear to see what all the commotion was about.

They were organizing search parties when the Hummel parents arrived. This time it was Carole who was furious and Burt who didn't seem to know what to do with himself. His cap made a constant circuit from his head to his hands, and if he'd had any hair, he would have been pulling it out.

Mercedes was inconsolable.

"Th-this is al-all m-my f-f-fault!" she sobbed into Quinn's shoulder.

Finn dropped to his knees next to the distraught girl.

"Mercedes, this isn't your fault. Okay? Listen, we need you. Kurt needs you. But if you can't handle it, someone'll take you home."

Mercedes sobered instantly. She pulled out of Quinn's arms and wiped her tears on her sleeve, glaring at her best friend's stepbrother.

"I can handle this," she said, taking a deep breath. "Kurt needs me."

Finn nodded. "Yes, he does. He needs all of us." He straightened and approached Rachel, whispering in her ear.

She nodded and clapped her hands sharply.

"Okay!" she yelled, and the sound in the room cut off abruptly. "We need to get going. Does everyone have a partner and know where they're going?" At the answering nods, she nodded sharply. "Be careful. Keep your cell phones on."

They headed out in groups; Puck, Artie, and Sam; Santana and Brittany; Mike and Tina; Mercedes and Quinn; Finn and Rachel. Will and Sue were putting aside their differences to partner up, and Emma had called her husband to come help. Burt and Carole brought up the rear.

Burt's phone vibrated and he answered it quickly.

"Yeah?" He stopped dead in the hallway. "I see. Okay, thank you." He hung up and spoke to his wife, Finn, and Rachel, the only ones who had noticed the call. "They just found Kurt's Navigator in a ditch by the creek," he explained. "No one was inside."

Finn shot Rachel a hopeful look; it had only been an hour since Kurt disappeared, and progress was being made already. But finding Kurt's car wasn't the same thing as finding Kurt.

Not even close.

**:**

"Please!" Kurt pleaded, squirming as Karofsky unfastened his pants, slowly beginning to pull them off his legs. "Don't…"

Karofsky responded by stripping the jeans off entirely, tossing them into the corner, followed by Kurt's boxers. He sat on Kurt's knees, prompting a groan of pain from the countertenor.

"You're not gonna make this easy for me, are you?" he muttered. "You didn't even wear a button-down. Oh, well. That just makes this a little more interesting…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife.

Kurt whimpered and tried to shy away, tears streaming out of his eyes and running down the sides of his face to the floor.

"No, no, no…"

Karofsky leaned forward and began to cut Kurt's shirt off, tearing it into shreds in the process and throwing it over by the jeans. Then he stood up, staring down at the naked boy in fascination.

Kurt shut his eyes, his chest heaving and his arms still clawing for freedom.

"God, you're beautiful, Hummel…"

Kurt's body wracked with sobs. "No, please…oh, God…"

Karofsky removed his own pants quickly, squatting over Kurt. He reached down and rubbed his hand over the boy's member. Kurt shuddered and moaned, his feet scrabbling uselessly on the cold floor.

"That's good, Kurt. Keep those legs apart for me."

Kurt immediately tried to snap his knees together, but Karofsky forced his way between them, placing his hands on Kurt's chest. Kurt gasped at the contact. His eyes flew open as his attacker's hands crept downwards, massaging his nipples and cradling his hips.

He _whined_. He whined and then clamped his mouth shut again, horrified.

"Oh, do that again, will you?" Karofsky moaned ecstatically, pressing down until his hardened penis was against Kurt's inner thigh. He wrapped his arms around Kurt, cupping Kurt's buttocks in his hands and biting down hard on his chest, drawing blood.

Kurt screamed and tried to kick, but Karofsky's weight was too much. His tongue made a trail from Kurt's belly-button to his chin.

"You taste so good…" he mumbled. The knife appeared again, and Kurt flinched and then squeaked as it pressed against his neck. He felt a burning sensation and tried to scream again, but Karofsky's other hand came up and clamped over his mouth, fingers pressing into the bruises on Kurt's face. Kurt managed a muffled sigh as Karofsky _licked _the wound.

_Licked _it.

"You're sick," he breathed when his mouth was uncovered. "You're a sick _bastard_."

Karofsky only laughed. "Just enjoy it, Kurt, because I'm not going to blow you."

Kurt's eyes widened. "Fuck you."

"For such a pretty face, you can really swear when you want to…"

"FUCK YOU!"

This only earned him another slap and Karofsky's lips on his again.

"You can talk dirty to me anytime…"

Kurt sobbed and kept struggling. He was tiring, though, and his wrists were rubbed raw. He could barely utter a protest when Karosky returned to biting and kissing his chest and neck. Kicking was doing no good; Karofsky was too far up on him. He trailed the knife lazily up and down Kurt's arm, and Kurt winced and gritted his teeth at the pain caused by the small incisions.

"Okay," the larger boy said finally, drawing back, his face flushed. "Are you ready, Kurt? Because I _definitely _am."

Horror paralyzed Kurt to the point where he couldn't even move as Karofsky slid back a little further. He'd known this was coming. But at the same time he'd wanted to think it wouldn't.

"You can't—"

"Oh, but I can, Kurt. No one's here to stop me. " Karofsky positioned himself, staring into Kurt's petrified eyes. "Brace yourself. Because this is_ really_ going to hurt."

And he entered the countertenor in one fluid movement.

Kurt screamed as agony shot through him, pain like he'd never felt before. His hips bucked and his feet slammed into the floor again and again as Karofsky groaned, his eyes shining.

"You're so tight…"

He began grinding, moving rhythmically back and forth. Kurt kept screaming, willing it to end, hoping to be found or to die. He had no control over himself, only knew he was not _at all _turned on by the situation, and Karofsky _was_, and oh my God, he was being _raped_.

He moaned as he felt Karofsky move inside him, pushing harder and harder. Karofsky's hands were tangled in Kurt's hair, his mouth was sucking on Kurt's body, and Kurt couldn't do _a thing _about it. His hips flew up again and he kicked his legs out involuntarily, screaming as white-hot pain split across his insides.

This was it. He couldn't do it anymore, he couldn't be strong, he couldn't be the bitch his friends had all known and loved.

Karofsky was taking everything from him. It was over.

He cried as Karofsky began to move faster and faster, grunting, until with a low keel he climaxed, spilling himself into Kurt and collapsing on top of the small boy.

Kurt fell silent. For a moment there was complete stillness in the shed; then Karofsky pulled himself up, removing himself from Kurt slowly and leaning back against the wall, panting.

"How was that, Fancy?" He asked with a sneer. "Was I good?"

Kurt sobbed again, turning his face away as Karofsky rocked forward again, reaching a hand down to Kurt's limp penis.

"I really thought you would get hard," he said carelessly. "Sorry."

There was a curious sound and Kurt risked a glance to see Karofsky suckingon his own fingers, which were covered in cum.

"You want a taste?"

Kurt shook his head, eyes wide, but Karofsky grabbed his hair in one fist and forced two sticky fingers into Kurt's mouth.

"Suck it," he commanded. Kurt didn't, and Karofsky kneed him in the groin. Kurt gasped and the inhalation gave Karofsky the leeway he needed to shove his fingers down Kurt's throat.

Kurt gagged and tossed his head sideways as the fingers were removed. He spat at the wall. He wanted to throw up but not while he was forced to lie on his back.

Tears burned in his eyes and a fresh wave of them broke free, speeding silently across his face as he shook.

Karofsky sat back.

"Now," he said mock thoughtfully. "I believe I told you if you went all tattle-tale on me, I was going to kill you."

Kurt struggled to breathe, spluttering on air.

"Which is a shame, because you make such a good fuck-buddy. But I won't be able to do you again, and I'm sure as hell not gonna let anyone else have you. So I guess I'll have to follow through. I'll give you a chance, though." He leaned closer, whispering in Kurt's ear. "The sun's gone down outside, Kurt. It might even be snowing. Why don't I lay you out in that snow and see if someone comes to find you? It'll be an amusing little game, to see if you survive that. I almost wish you would, because then you would know you'll always belong to me."

Kurt began to shake again, gasping as waves of pain traveled up and down his body.

"Th-they'll f-f-find me," he sobbed.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Karofsky stood and pulled his pants back on, inspecting his captive. "But let's make the game more fun, shall we? I'm afraid you might be able to get help yourself in this state. And that wouldn't be fair. It's you and me, Kurt. No one else."

He lifted the bat and Kurt tried to summon another scream. All that came out was a gust of air as Karofsky slammed the wood down on his knee. Kurt writhed as the bone shattered. Karofsky threw the bat away, smiling.

"Good." He turned to the door and pulled out a little key, using it to unlock the chains and fling the door open.

The sun was completely gone, and cold air swept inside, along with scattered snowflakes.

"It _is_ snowing!" Karofsky exclaimed. "You gotta love winter. I remember when I was little," he continued, stomping back over to Kurt and cutting the jump-ropes. "I would make snow angels with my little sister. You just lay down and moved your arms and legs back and forth. But you always ruined them by standing up." He whispered in Kurt's ear as he lifted the broken figure, flinging him over his shoulder. "How'd you like to be my snow angel tonight, Kurt? Just lay down—and you don't ever have to stand up." He laughed.

Kurt was delirious with pain, but he was coherent enough to realize something was _seriously _wrong with Karofsky. The guy was insane.

Then all thoughts flew out of his head as he was dropped unceremoniously into the snow.

He let out a huff of pain and surprise as the snow enveloped his naked body, causing him to start shivering immediately. He stared up at Karofsky, who was looking down at him.

"It's been fun, Kurt."

And he winked and lumbered off, leaving Kurt all alone as the blackness took over…


	20. Chapter 20

**20**

"Okay, we just got to the park. Yeah, call you if we see anything. _Yes_, Finn, I understand!"

Santana flipped her phone shut with an irritable sigh and stuffed it back in her pocket, letting the car roll to a stop and shifting into park. She pulled the scrunchie out of her hair and shook it out, gazing through the windshield at the wintry landscape.

"Do you think we'll find him?"

Santana glanced sideways. Her expression softened at the hopeful expression on her best friend's face.

"Of course we will, Brit."

Brittany hugged herself and stared out her window.

"It's so _cold_."

"Let's get going." Santana opened her door and hopped out, grabbing her flashlight and kicking the snow away as she stared around. "At least it stopped snowing. It'll be easier to see now."

"I haven't been to the park in a long time," Brittany replied, clicking her own flashlight on and shining the beam around. She bit her lip. "We should split up?"

"Yeah. I'll take the playground. You check over there."

**:**

Brittany wandered away from Santana. She shivered. It was so quiet here; not like it was in the summer, with kids running around everywhere.

Where could Kurt be?

She paced to the edge of the parking lot and hesitantly stepped into the snow. It reached to her ankles, but her boots kept her feet dry. She cupped her hands around her mouth.

"Kurt!"

The sound echoed all around her, but there was no reply. She hadn't really expected one. She sighed and turned along the park's perimeter, marked by a small grove of trees. A small building sat several yards in front of her. Brittany recognized it as the equipment shed, where the toys kids liked to play with were kept.

It wasn't locked. The door opened easily, and Brittany shone her flashlight around inside. Almost everything was in its place, except for a few assorted knick-kacks, among them a random baseball bat and some tangles of jump-rope, which looked as though they'd been some rats' gnaw-toy recently.

She was about to leave when she noticed a pile of rags in the corner.

Odd.

Creeping closer, she saw it was really a pair of jeans and the remnants of a shirt. Thoughts of creepy homeless men filled Brittany's head and she stepped back, the flashlight beam dancing around the shed.

She should tell Santana. Just in case.

As Brittany started back to her friend, a flash of red in the snow caught the corner of her eye.

She shuffled closer, taking a deep breath and keeping her face averted. This scenario was all-too familiar to a horror movie her cousin had tricked her into watching once. She forced herself to look.

And had to gulp back a shriek, because there was a body half-buried in the snow. The red she'd seen was blood, dying the powdery stuff a vicious crimson that reminded Brittany terribly of a cherry sno-cone.

She would never eat one of those again.

She mouthed wordlessly, trembling, and dropped the flashlight, where it shone eerily on the person's face. Even blue and swollen, she recognized it.

"San-Santana," she whispered, gathering her voice. "SANTANA!"

Her friend stumbled to her side, took one look at the prone figure, and screamed.

"Holy shit," she muttered, looking like she might throw up. "_Fuck_."

As Brittany stood numbly, Santana whipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed 911, her voice shaky and thin.

"My friend, Kurt Hummel, the missing kid…we found him. At Centre Park, by the equipment shed…no, I don't know if he's breathing. I'll check."

And she stepped forward, pushing Brittany out of the way and ignoring the small gasp the other Cheerio made as she landed in a snow drift.

She pressed her fingers to Kurt's neck, praying, praying…she sucked in a breath.

"I feel a pulse. It's _really _faint. Yes, we'll be right here. _Hurry._"

Her arm fell to her side and she stared at Kurt for a moment before looking away.

"Santana?" Brittany asked quietly, touching her friend's shoulder. Santana pulled the other girl into a tight hug, and they both sank to the ground, backs to their injured friend.

"It's okay," Santana whispered as tears flowed down both faces. Slowly, she found another number on her phone and dialed with trembling fingers. "Finn? We found him. He's alive. The ambulance is on its way." Her voice was flat, monotonic, and she hung up without hearing Finn's response.

**:**

Finn dropped his phone into the cupholder and put the car into drive, screeching away from the curb.

"Where is he?" Rachel asked, correctly guessing the cause of Finn's panic.

"The park," he said tightly.

They weren't far away and made excellent time, nearly colliding with an ambulance coming the opposite direction. Swerving, Finn pulled into the parking lot after the truck and leapt out, running after the paramedics toward the snow drift where he could see two figures huddled together.

"Brittany! Santana!" he called. They jumped up and pointed frantically. The paramedics maneuvered a stretcher and gently lifted a figure onto it. Finn wheezed a disgusted sound as he saw his stepbrother, and he heard Rachel burst into tears behind him.

He took off after the stretcher, shouting over his shoulder.

"Rachel, call my parents! Call everyone!" He reached the back of the truck. "I'm his stepbrother," he pleaded.

They nodded and he pulled himself up, doors slamming behind him. The vehicle took off, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

Rachel felt an arm wrap around her waist and looked over to see Brittany pulling her close, Santana still clinging to the girl's other hand.

"There was so much blood…" Brittany whispered, burying her face in Santana's shoulder.

"He's alive," Rachel said quietly, still staring after her boyfriend. "He's alive." She shook herself and looked over at the other two. "Come on. We need to get to the hospital."

**:**

Mercedes couldn't remember a time when she'd been more frightened. She could handle scary movies. She could handle walking home alone through dark streets. She was tough.

What she _couldn't_ handle was knowing that her best friend, one of the most important people in her life, was out there somewhere, hurting and terrified, and there was really nothing she could do.

She remembered reading something once about this feeling of helplessness being the worst part for a missing persons' loved ones, and now she knew it was the truth.

"Mercedes, your phone's ringing."

Quinn's face appeared, tear-stained and sympathetic, before her. They were standing on a street in Lima's quaint downtown. Quinn had bought them both coffees from a vendor and was now balancing one in each hand as she looked in trepidation at the other girl.

Mercedes pulled out her phone and answered it. "Did you find him?" she asked, not caring who was on the other end.

It was Rachel. "_Yes, he's alive, we're on our way to the hospital_."

Tears sprang into Mercedes' eyes. She sent up a silent prayer.

_Thank you, God_.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: You know how they say "When it rains, it pours?" The college version of this is "When one paper is due, three are due." So this is my excuse for missing the daily updates for the past few days.

This chapter almost made me cry while writing it. If you have not heard Jane Siberry's song "Calling All Angels," I suggest you go listen to it. If you've seen the movie "Pay It Forward," you've heard the song. It's the heartbreaking one at the film's end.

* * *

**21**

"Finn?" Rachel exclaimed breathlessly, tumbling into the waiting room and searching automatically for her boyfriend.

"There he is!" Brittany pointed to a corner where Finn sat alone, his head buried in his hands.

The three girls ran over to him, almost afraid to ask what they had to know.

"Finn? Is he…I mean…"

Finn looked up slowly. His eyes were red-rimmed and his fingers were shaking just the slightest bit.

"He—he—they won't tell me anything," he croaked.

"That's okay," Rachel said soothingly, even though it wasn't.

"It's my fault," he murmured as his girlfriend sat next to him.

Santana threw her hands up. "First Wheezy, now you! What, am I supposed to blame myself just because I'm in glee or something?"

"I'm his brother!" Finn said, standing and breaking away from Rachel. "I promised I would protect him. _We _promised! And we failed." He began to pace in agitation. "That—that—_bastard_ got to him! He hurt him really bad. And we weren't there! When we should have been! He was lonely and scared and hurt and _I _wasn't there for him!"

"Calm down!"

This was Puck, who stepped forward along with the remainder of the glee club, Mr. Schue, and Coach Sylvester, who had all arrived just in time to hear Finn's rant.

"I can't!" Finn shouted, clenching his fists in his hair and glancing between his friends wildly. "I—I—I—"

"Finn!" Mr. Schue's tone was sharp and commanding as he moved to stand directly in front of his student. "Snap out of it! You are not responsible for what anyone else does. You are responsible for _you_, and you alone."

"But I—"

"Finn, please."

And only Rachel's quiet plea could cause him to deflate and allow his own tears to flow.

**:**

Carole Hudson-Hummel only needed one hand to count the number of times she'd seen her son cry in the last three years or so, and most of these had been in the time since he'd joined the glee club.

One was when he told her Quinn was pregnant. Another when he found out Puck was the baby's father.

But those times were nothing compared to the sight that greeted her now as she stepped into the waiting room of Lima's hospital. Her husband charged straight to the desk, but Carole paused to look around for the kids she knew must have beaten them there.

They weren't difficult to locate, a huge knot of extremely distraught teenagers clinging to each other in one corner of the room, seemingly oblivious to everything going on around them until Burt announced in a loud voice that he was "Kurt Hummel's father," at which point they all turned.

Carole's eyes scanned the group quickly. She had always been pretty good with names and had made an effort to memorize the faces of her son's friends. Puck was easy, sitting ramrod straight in a chair, his arms wrapped around a quivering cheerleader she believed was called Santana. She saw a silently crying Quinn, her hands clasped with Kurt's friend Mercedes. The new blonde-haired boy from the football team, Sam, sat quietly next to an Asian couple. Carole thought their names might be Tara and Mark, but she wasn't sure. There was the boy in the wheelchair, Artie, his arms wrapped around a vaguely familiar blonde cheerleader she remembered Finn once calling 'Brittany.'

Then there was Rachel, her tear-stained face visible over Finn's shoulder as she rubbed slow circles on his back. Finn was the only one who hadn't turned. Rachel whispered something in his ear, and he did.

And Carole saw it.

Her son's face was wet, and he was shaking. There was something in his eyes Carole couldn't quite place.

"Mom," he breathed. And he sounded so young, so vulnerable…she realized it was fear.

She reached out for him, and in an instant he was before her, arms wrapped around her, and he was sobbing into her shoulder.

"I…t-tried…Kurt…should have…" he gulped out between sobs.

"Shh…" she soothed, and realized she was crying as well. She sat down with her son's friends and rocked him back and forth until his tears had slowed and he pulled away.

"Th-they almost lost him in the ambulance," Finn said finally, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand and wrapping a gangly arm around Rachel, who pressed against him instantly. "He was so _little_."

Carole squeezed his hand and shut her eyes tightly.

Will and Sue returned at that moment, having gone to get coffee. Will's eyes swept over Carole, and then to where Burt was talking with a nurse.

"Do we know anything yet?" he asked, taking a seat.

The others shook their heads wearily.

After a moment, Carole realized Mercedes appeared to be talking to herself; she was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, lips moving. Carole leaned forward and put a hand on the girl's knee.

"Mercedes?"

Mercedes jumped and opened her eyes. "I'm praying," she explained.

Brittany stopped running her fingers through Artie's hair and frowned.

"You shouldn't do that. Kurt wouldn't like it."

Carole frowned. "Why not?"

"Kurt doesn't believe in God," Finn explained. "Remember when Burt had the heart attack and Kurt didn't want us to pray for him?"

She did remember. "But I don't see why we can't express our own beliefs. Praying can only help Kurt now."

Quinn lifted her head and began singing quietly.

_"Santa Maria, Santa Teresa, Santa Anna, Santa Susannah_  
_Santa Cecilia, Santa Copelia, Santa Domenica, Mary Angelica_  
_Frater Achad, Frater Pietro, Julianus, Petronilla_  
_Santa, Santos, Miroslaw, Vladimir and all the rest"_

Tina smiled weakly at her and took up the next verse.

_"Oh, a man is placed upon the steps, a baby cries_  
_High above, you can hear the church bells start to ring_  
_And as the heaviness, oh the heaviness, the body settles in_  
_Somewhere you could hear, a mother sing"_

Santana reached over and linked pinkies with Brittany as the two friends lifted their voices together.

_"Then it's one foot then the other as you step out on the road_  
_Step out on the road, how much weight, how much weight?_  
_Then it's how long and how far and how many times_  
_Oh, before it's too late?"_

All six of the glee girls slowly slipped off their chairs and formed a circle on the floor as they shifted into the chorus.

_"Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_Walk me through this one, don't leave me alone_  
_Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_We're trying, we're hoping, but we're not sure how"_

Mercedes smiled and sang through her falling tears.

_"Oh, and every day you gaze upon the sunset_  
_With such love and intensity_  
_Why, it's ah, it's almost as if you could only crack the code_  
_You'd finally understand what this all means"_

Rachel leaned forward.

_"Oh, but if you could, do you think you would_  
_Trade it all, all the pain and suffering?_  
_Oh, but then you would've missed the beauty of_  
_The light upon this earth and the sweetness of the leaving"_

The girls reached out and joined hands, tears flowing freely down their faces and down the faces of many of those watching them as they burst forth with new heart, new emotion, new prayer.

_"Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_Walk me through this one, don't leave me alone_  
_Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_We're trying, we're hoping, but we're not sure why_

_Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_Walk me through this one, walk me through this one_  
_Don't leave me alone_

_Calling all Angels, calling all Angels_  
_We're trying, we're hoping, we're hurting, we're loving_  
_We're crying, we're calling_  
_'Cause we're not sure how this goes…"_

* * *

A/N: Song was "Calling All Angels" by Jane Siberry with k.d. lang.


	22. Chapter 22

**22**

Burt shuffled over to the group, his face drawn. He collapsed into a vacated chair and removed his cap, laying it on his knees.

"Is he going to be okay?" Mercedes whispered, breaking the tense silence.

The answering nod sent a wave of relief over their corner of the room.

"Physically."

This halted the tentative smiles as Carole asked what they'd all been wondering.

"What happened to him?"

Burt cast a wary gaze over the many eager faces, clearly reluctant to discuss his son's condition so publicly.

"We deserve to know," Finn insisted. "Please?"

Carole nodded, so Burt folded his hands together between his knees and leaned forward.

"He hasn't woken up yet, so until they get his side of the story, it's kinda hard to know what exactly happened. He had a severe case of hypothermia—they said he'd been out in the snow at least a half hour. Three cracked ribs, a broken leg…a pretty banged up face. Cuts all up and down the inside of his left arm. Marks on his chest and neck….like before."

His voice cracked and Carole pulled him close, more tears running down her cheeks.

"We'll get through this," she began gently, but Burt shook his head, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

"Carole, he was _raped_. The monster raped my little boy!"

Mercedes gasped and burst into tears, curling in on herself and rocking back and forth as a quivering Tina held her.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Quinn moaned, burying her face in her hands.

"Are we allowed to see him?" Artie asked bravely, his eyes gleaming as he clutched protectively to Brittany's hand.

Burt shook his head. "The doctor said they'd tell me when it was okay, but it'll only be family at first." He sighed and replaced his hat. "You all should go home. If Kurt wakes up, I'll tell him you were here."

"But we—" Puck began.

"There's nothing you can do, Noah," Carole said firmly. "Please...just go."

There was a long pause before Mike finally stood, helping Tina off the floor and hugging her tightly to him.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Tina promised, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve as they turned and left.

Puck, Sam, and Santana were the next to rise. Artie looked at Brittany.

"Ready?" he asked.

She held up a finger and crossed to the Hummels, wrapping her arms around her stomach. Her lip trembled.

"Mr. Hummel?"

He looked up at her with faint recognition. "Yeah?"

"I…I was the one who found Kurt. By the shed in the park. And…I don't know…but I saw some stuff in there and I think it might be important."

Burt nodded slowly. "Thank you," he murmured. "The police are already investigating, but…thank you. For finding him." He bowed his head.

Brittany hesitated; then she reached forward and patted Burt's shoulder, before turning and nodding at Artie. The group of five left.

"Do you need a ride?" Quinn asked Rachel.

Rachel turned to Finn, who hugged her tightly.

"I'll be okay," he whispered.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," she promised, kissing him on the cheek and rising.

It took both girls to coax Mercedes to her feet. She looked around helplessly, finally locking eyes with Finn.

"Tell Kurt I love him. _So _much."

Finn nodded and the girls left, tears running down all their faces as they huddled close together.

Will and Sue climbed to their feet, pausing before the family of three. Will crouched down to look Finn in the eyes.

"If you need anything, you or Kurt, let me know. I'll come by tomorrow, okay?"

Sue spoke to the parents. She seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"They're doing a…a rape kit, right?"

"Of course," Burt muttered.

Sue nodded. "That's…good. I—" But she seemed unable to think of what to say, because she smiled weakly and marched out, trailed by the glee instructor.

**:**

It was an hour later that they were finally informed Kurt could have visitors. Apparently he was still asleep, but stable.

Finn followed his parents quietly down the hall, not really sure he wanted to see Kurt in such a vulnerable state. He was used to his stepbrother being all together, but in the past few days he'd seen that mask slip more times than ever before. And now...now _this. _He was glad Kurt was asleep, because he had no idea how to act right now.

"If he does wake up," the nurse said, stopping in front of a closed door, "let us know immediately."

She opened the door and stepped aside, allowing them to enter.

Kurt was tiny, lying in the big, white hospital bed. Burt hadn't been lying about his face, which was all different colors and swollen on one side. His neck was wrapped in gauze. His arms were above the sheets; one was covered all the way to the sleeve of his hospital gown with bandages. Both wrists were wrapped. There was a bulge under the covers which Finn supposed was the cast for the broken leg.

He collapsed into a chair, but he couldn't look away. Burt pulled a chair up to the bed and took one of Kurt's hands; Finn had a sudden flashback to the opposite scene, and Kurt's sad voice singing, _"I wanna hold your hand…"_

A sob escaped his chest.

Carole positioned herself on Kurt's other side, caressing his hand gently.

"Hey, buddy," Burt said quietly, and Finn started until he realized Kurt hadn't woken up. "We're all real worried about you. All your friends were here, even that nasty cheerleading coach. I—I know this sucks, a lot. But we're gonna help you through it. I promise. I love you, Kurt."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: I couldn't figure out if Rachel's dads have been given official names on the show, but the general consensus on the site seems to be to call them Hiram and Leroy, so I've continued that tradition here.

* * *

**23**

Hiram and Leroy Berry were surprised when they opened their front door to discover not one teenaged girl on the other side, but three.

They knew what had happened, of course. Rachel had called them hours ago, before the boy had been found, to explain the situation. The two men immediately joined the search party in their own car; the missing kid was a friend of Rachel's, her boyfriend's stepbrother, and a fellow member of Lima's pitifully small gay population, each reason enough to care. They had returned home only when another call from their daughter informed them that Kurt had been taken to the hospital, and she didn't know when she'd be home.

Now here she was, along with two other girls, looking exhausted and tearful and like she _really _needed a hug.

Which they obediently bestowed upon her.

Rachel tried to smile and gestured at the two girls hovering in the background.

"Dad, Daddy, you might recognize Mercedes and Quinn. They'll be spending the night so we can all go to the hospital together in the morning."

Her tone booked no room for argument, and really, what was one missed day of school? Their Rachel was very bright.

But she often seemed lonely, so while the presence of two vaguely familiar girls was surprising, it wasn't at all unwelcome.

Especially not tonight.

**:**

The nightmare was terrible.

_Kurt found himself standing in the middle of a desolate volcanic wastleland. The sky was blood-red, casting an eerie glow on the red-rock landscape and spurts of molten lava below. _

_Kurt's mouth was terribly dry and bits of ash were making his eyes sting. He tried to wipe the streaming tears away but found he could not move his arms. His feet were planted to the ground._

_"Help!" he screamed, but his voice echoed uselessly across the terrain._

_A dark chuckle suddenly reverberated off the rocks and Kurt began to shake. The ominous noise grew louder until it became a dull roar, and through the steam a figure walked slowly into view._

_Karofsky had grown to twice his usual height. His eyes were glowing red and his letterman jacket was liquid lava, swimming on his hulking torso. His teeth were each small knives, sharp and glittering._

_"No!" Kurt tried to run, but he still couldn't move. _

_The giant came right up to him and stared down, the laughter shifting into a dangerous growl._

_"I told you what would happen!" Karofsky's snarl boomed out, and Kurt whimpered. "Didn't I? DIDN'T I?" Hands the size of trashcan lids crashed down on Kurt's shoulders and began shaking him._

_"No, stop! Stop! Please!" Kurt sobbed._

_Karofsky shouted his name. "KURT! KURT!"_

"No, please…stop…"

"Kurt!"

Kurt started awake with a scream, his eyes flying open only to shut instantly at the blinding white light.

"Kurt?"

That didn't sound like an angry voice.

_Am I dead?_

"Son?"

It wasn't his mother's voice, either.

Carefully, Kurt cracked his eyes open. His father was standing before him, a concerned expression twisting his features. Behind his shoulder stood Finn, looking frightened and confused.

Kurt felt scratchy sheets under his fingertips and glanced down to see an IV leading out of one arm.

A hospital.

"I'm alive?" he croaked.

Burt nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "You were having a nightmare. I had to wake you up…"

Kurt licked his lips; his throat felt like cotton, and his brain felt muffled. He wasn't entirely sure why he found Finn's expression funny, but he suddenly wanted to laugh.

"Is there water?" he asked instead.

Burt nodded at Finn, who scrambled for a pitcher and poured a glass, handing it to Burt with trembling hands.

Kurt tried to reach up but felt a stinging pain shoot down his arm.

"Ow!"

He stared down at the bandaged limb, remembering _the knife sliding up and down and Karofsky nibbling on his chest and _STOP.

"'I'll hold it for you," Burt said firmly, lifting the cup to Kurt's lips. Kurt wanted to protest, but the liquid felt so good sliding down his throat that he didn't.

A young nurse came in then, smiling at her patient and consulting the clipboard at the end of the bed briefly before moving to Kurt's side.

"How do you feel, hon?" she asked gently.

Kurt winced. "Terrible. My head hurts."

"I'm not surprised. You have quite the concussion."

_a heavy body slamming him into the ground, a sharp crack and the scattering of chairs_

"And…and…" he tried to shift and gritted his teeth against the waves of pain. "Ouch."

"I'll see about getting you some more medication for the pain when I'm done here."

The room fell silent as the nurse checked Kurt's vitals, beaming in the end and jotting something down.

"Everything looks good, Kurt. I'll go talk to the doctor. Oh, look, here's your mom now."

Carole hurried past the other woman, rushing to Kurt's side.

"The minute I decide to go to the restroom," she muttered disconsolately. She pushed Kurt's hair back from his face, gazing down at him. "Oh, sweetie…"

Kurt opted to stare down at his hands, examining his wrists with a detached air.

_burning, burning, burning and he could feel blood oozing out of the wounds…he pulled harder_

"How did I get here?" he asked.

Finn stepped closer, apparently relieved to have a purpose in the room. He looked distinctly uncomfortable; his hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his shoulders were hunched.

"We set up search parties. Brittany and Santana found you."

"Why?"

Finn's mouth opened. "…what?"

Kurt looked up finally, his troubled eyes meeting his stepbrother's and his voice climbing in pitch.

"_Why _did you find me? I was dying, I was oblivious, I was gone where no one could find me anymore! Why did you save me?"

He pressed his hands into his eyes, ignoring the pain, ignoring the family he was sure were horrified now.

"Okay, Kurt." The nurse was back, settling him onto his pillows. She guided his hands away from his face and wiped his cheeks and forehead with a damp cloth. "Everything's all right. I've got something here that'll help the pain, and it'll help you sleep, too, okay?"

She injected something into his IV tube and left.

Kurt stared up at the ceiling, blinking away tears of humiliation. He could feel three pairs of eyes watching him.

"Carole," Burt said eventually, "you and Finn should go home. I'm spending the night here."

There was a long pause, and Kurt could just imagine the silent battle going on between his dad and stepmom, with Finn stuck awkwardly in the middle. It made him want to laugh again.

_What's the matter with me?_

Carole sighed. "All right." She leaned down and kissed Kurt lightly on the forehead. "We'll be back tomorrow." She hesitated, and Kurt felt his eyes unwillingly travel sideways to meet hers. "I love you, you know."

Kurt felt a lump in his throat. "Good night," he whispered in reply. He flicked his gaze to Finn. "Bye, Finn."

Finn gave him a long look. "Bye," he said finally, frowning.

Kurt could see the wheels in the other boy's head turning, knew he was trying to think of something else to say.

"Finn—"

"Mercedes loves you. She wanted me to tell you that."

Kurt's eyes filled with tears at the thought of his best friend, and how much he must have worried her.

"Thanks."

With a small nod, Finn led his mother from the room.

Burt resumed his seat next to his son's bedside. Kurt turned his face away so he wouldn't have to talk.

Sleep took him soon after.


	24. Chapter 24

**24**

All Finn wanted to do when he got home was sleep. Lie down, drift away, and _not_ think about what was going on.

He and his mother stood silently in the living room for an entire minute, both staring blankly into space. Then she moved forward suddenly, wrapping him up in a tight hug. He felt fresh tears on his neck.

"Try to get some sleep, honey," she said gently, pulling away.

Finn watched her move sadly to the stairs. A sudden urge stole over him and he called after her.

"Mom?"

She turned hopefully. "Mhm?"

"I…I love you."

Carole nodded, managing a small smile. "I love you, too."

Finn stared after her for a moment, then glanced over at the basement door, which was open a crack. For some reason, he didn't want to go down there. It was still Kurt's Basement, and Kurt…

He flopped down on the couch instead, staring up at the ceiling.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep. He kept remembering Kurt's bruised face, how terrified he'd been during the nightmare…how small and frail he was…

_"He was raped."_

Finn always thought rape was something that happened to girls, like on 'Criminal Minds.' It happened in seedy alleyways and hotel rooms and out-of-control parties.

Not at a children's playground. Not in Lima, Ohio.

That kind of thing just _didn't happen _here. Especially not to guys.

_Not even to guys like Kurt?_

Finn rolled over and glared at the floor.

Kurt didn't deserve this. He'd been through so much already. Couldn't the world give him a break?

Not when there were guys like Karofsky around.

_Karofsky._

Finn clenched his fist and buried his face in the armrest.

God, he _hated _the guy. He wanted to throttle him. No, he wanted to make sure the creep went through as much pain as he'd put Kurt through. He wondered if the police had caught him yet.

He wondered if they were even looking.

**:**

Finn's head was buzzing so fervently that he almost didn't recognize the insistent ringing for what it was—the phone.

Groaning, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen. He glanced at the clock on the microwave.

He'd been lying on the couch in his daze-like state for an hour. It didn't seem like that long.

He sighed and picked up the phone, biting back a yawn.

"Hello?"

"_Is this the Hummel residence?"_

The voice was clipped, concerned, young, and unfamiliar.

Finn frowned and rubbed the bridge of his nose in a fashion reminiscent of Mr. Schue. Under other circumstances, he might correct the caller and say it was the "_Hudson_-Hummel residence, thank you very much," but right now he really didn't care.

"Yeah, look, if you're with the police or whatever, my mom's asleep…"

Mystery Caller made a sound that could have been a gasp.

_"Why would the police be calling? Is Kurt there? Oh, God, please tell me he's there."_

Finn frowned, his brain becoming more lucid.

"Slow down, dude. Who are you?"

_"I'm Blaine Anderson, Kurt's friend from Dalton Academy. So Kurt isn't there?"_

Blaine. _Oh._

Finn's eyes narrowed. "No, Kurt isn't here right now," he said coolly. "Can I take a—"

Blaine cut him off. _"Is this Kurt's stepbrother? I saw the news, it said something about a McKinley High student being attacked and taken to the hospital and I've tried to call Kurt a million times and he isn't picking up. He gave me this number a long time ago and I just found it—please tell me it isn't him. Tell me he's at Mercedes' house or something!"_

Finn pressed a hand to his forehead and leaned against the counter. Part of him wanted to lie, but the other part told him this Blaine kid was genuinely worried. And even though Kurt never talked about Blaine, Finn knew he still cared a lot about the other boy.

"He's at the hospital. He's okay…"

Blaine sucked in a breath. _"Oh no. Is it bad? I'm driving down there first thing tomorrow!"_

Finn shot upright. "I don't think that's a good idea. Kurt's been through a lot and I don't know what you did to him but I doubt he wants to see you right now. And I know _I _don't."

_"I have to see him."_

"He doesn't _need _you." Finn felt his anger rising. "He has _us_. Please don't come here. If he wants you, he'll call."

And he hung up.

**:**

The next time Kurt woke up, it was morning. He could tell because the murmur of the hospital was much louder and sunlight was shining through his eyelids.

Someone was holding onto his hand. He thought he recognized the touch.

"'Cedes?" he guessed.

There was a light gasp and his best friend's fingers flexed in his.

"You're awake? You scared me!"

He opened his eyes then and smiled weakly at her.

"Sorry. I thought it was you." He looked around and spotted Finn's oversized frame slumped in a chair. His stepbrother's cheek was resting on his shoulder and he was snoring. "How attractive."

Mercedes followed his gaze.

"He was awake until a little while ago. Didn't get a lot of sleep last night, I guess."

Kurt examined his friend more closely; saw the bags under her dark eyes and the exhaustion on her face.

"It doesn't look like you did, either."

She smiled wearily. "We did our best."

"'We?'"

"Quinn and I slept over at Rachel's. We…we didn't want to be alone."

"Where are they now?"

"With your parents, getting something to eat. Coffee, maybe."

Kurt looked away. "Sorry."

She squeezed his hand. "For _what_?"

"…I don't know."

"Kurt, look at me." When he didn't comply, she reached a hand over and gently maneuvered his chin towards her.

_a hand grabbing his face, fingers clamping down and repulsive lips pressed against his_

"Don't!" He pulled back, and Mercedes snatched her hands away immediately, pressing them to her mouth in horror.

"I'm sorry! Oh, my God."

Kurt forced his breathing to remain even and fought against the tears.

"It's okay."

He could feel her concerned gaze on him and wished Finn would wake up so there would be a distraction.

Luckily, his nurse, Maria, strode in then with a plastic tub filled with ointment and gauze. She smiled widely.

"Good morning, Kurt. How are you feeling?"

He thought about it. "Okay. I mean, a little numb."

"The medication we gave you last night is pretty strong. Unfortunately, I'm here to change your bandages, and that will probably hurt a little." She glanced at Mercedes. "It…it isn't the prettiest sight, either. I'm not sure you'll want company."

"I'm not going anywhere." Finn was awake now, watching Kurt with serious eyes.

"Me neither," Mercedes insisted.

Maria smiled. "Well, you have wonderful friends, Kurt, you can be sure of that. All right, if you don't mind, I don't mind."

Kurt stayed silent as Maria helped him sit up. She unhooked his hospital gown and slid it down his shoulders, allowing it to settle around his waist. He grunted as she unwrapped the bindings around his ribs and prodded them carefully. Then she removed the bandages on his chest and neck.

Mercedes made a small noise in her throat. Her eyes grew big as Maria rubbed cream on the various marks and bruises. Kurt stared over Maria's shoulder, biting his lip against the pain. After Maria had wrapped everything up again, she slid his gown back on and leaned him back.

"I'm going to do your wrists now, okay?"

Kurt nodded, understanding the implication: this was going to hurt.

He couldn't look away as Maria removed the gauze. This time Mercedes outright gasped and Finn, who had come to the bedside, stepped back.

"What happened?" he asked.

Kurt didn't answer; he was mesmerized by the deep, angry red marks encircling both wrists. There were serious cuts and bruises there, and would be scabs before long.

He hissed as Maria went through her routine, re-bandaging the wrists and moving on to Kurt's arm. Her fingers hesitated.

"Kurt…I want you to look away when I do this."

"Why?" he asked in confusion. A sudden thought sprang into his head, borne perhaps of too many crime shows. "Did he…did he _write_ something?" he whispered, his voice catching.

She met his eyes solemnly. "Yes."

Kurt couldn't stifle a small sob. His eyes flew up and locked onto Mercedes', and he kept that stare as Maria finished her work, checking the marks on his face quickly before promising to be back with food soon.

When he was alone with Mercedes and Finn once more, Kurt closed his eyes. Finally, he forced himself to look at his friends.

"What does it say?" he asked wearily.

"Kurt, I don't think—"

"Please?"

Mercedes shook her head and turned away, her eyes brimming with tears. Kurt turned to Finn, whose face was a mix of disgust and sadness.

"It…it says 'Mine,'" Finn muttered.

Kurt's breath hitched. "Oh." He clutched at the sheet.

Finn's eyes flickered to Kurt's wrists. "What happened?" he repeated.

Kurt shook his head. "I don't think—"

"Goddamnit, Kurt, just tell me!"

Kurt flinched as Mercedes lay a comforting hand on his arm, glaring at Finn.

"Finn, leave him alone—"

But Kurt couldn't hold it in anymore. He looked directly at his stepbrother.

"Do you really want to know? You wanna know all the dirty, sexy details? I'm a faggot, right? I'm supposed to like it kinky. He tied me up, Finn! With a fucking jumprope! Arms above the head like some fucking porn video! _It turned him on_!"

There were tears sliding freely down Kurt's cheeks and he was shaking again.

He heard a thud.

Through his tears he saw his parents, Quinn, and Rachel standing in the doorway.

Spilled coffee pooled on the floor.


	25. Chapter 25

**25**

Quinn knocked on the closed stall door.

"Mercedes? Sweetie, please talk to me…"

A retching sound followed by sniffling was the only reply.

The restroom door opened and Carole poked her head in.

"Are you girls okay? The police just got here and Burt and I are about to talk to them. Rachel and Finn stayed with Kurt."

Quinn nodded. "I can handle this, Mrs. Hummel. Go ahead." When the woman was gone, she rapped harder with her knuckles. "Open up."

There was a long pause, and then the stall door unlatched with a click. Quinn peered inside; Mercedes was leaning over the toilet bowl.

"Tethered like an animal," she murmured, her voice echoing off the porcelain and tile. "Like an _animal._"

Quinn knelt and rubbed slow circles on her friend's back.

She didn't know what to say.

**:**

"Kurt, you need to eat something."

A tray of lime Jell-O, some kind of broth, and Sprite had just been delivered. Kurt was glaring at it, arms crossed gingerly.

"I'm not hungry."

Rachel sighed and looked to her boyfriend for help, but Finn wasn't paying attention, engrossed in something on his phone.

"Finn…" Rachel hissed.

He looked up. "Huh?"

"Tell Kurt he needs to eat."

Finn straightened in his seat. "Kurt, you need to—ew, dude, what _is _that stuff?"

Kurt snorted triumphantly. "See? If the human garbage disposal wouldn't eat it, it certainly won't do for me."

Rachel huffed and sat back in her chair. "Who are you texting?"

"The rest of the gleeks," Finn replied, eyes trained once again on his cellular. "Their parents all made them go to school—but Puck's skipping anyway, so he might be here soon."

"Does everyone have to come gawk at me like I'm some zoo animal?" Kurt grumbled, giving the can of soda the evil eye.

Rachel shared a look with Finn.

"They're worried about you, Kurt. You don't have to talk to them, but don't you think they deserve to see that you're okay?"

Kurt shrugged. Then he lifted his eyes and gasped.

"Blaine."

Finn and Rachel spun to see the prep school boy standing in the doorway, staring at the bed and its occupant.

"God, Kurt…" Blaine murmured, his eyes wide.

Finn frowned. "I thought I told you not to come here."

"What?" Kurt was confused. "When did_ you_ talk to him?"

Rachel's head swiveled between the newcomer and her bedridden friend.

"Look…Blaine, right?" she began gently, "maybe now isn't the best time…"

"It's okay," Kurt cut her off. "Could you give us a minute?"

Rachel sighed and nodded reluctantly, taking Finn's sleeve and beginning to pull him from the room.

"We'll be _right _outside," Finn said pointedly, shooting Blaine a warning look as they left, shutting the door.

Kurt offered Blaine a tiny smile. "Hi."

The other boy took a step forward, his gaze fixed on Kurt's face.

"I saw the news and I thought it might be you. Then you weren't picking up your phone…"

"And here I am!" Kurt said mock-cheerfully.

"It _was_ Karofsky, right? Is he in jail?"

The countertenor shrugged. "I don't know."

"…you don't seem all that concerned about it."

Kurt's eyes filled with angry tears, which he tried unsuccessfully to hide.

"To be honest, I've got enough to deal with here, without worrying about what's happening to _him_. I'm trying to hold _myself_ together. Fuck _him_. Who cares? He already got to me, anyway, and I don't believe in God's justice prevailing or any of that shit."

Blaine looked taken aback.

"What did he do to you?" he asked softly.

Kurt shook his head bitterly. "It doesn't matter. He won."

"If you'd been at Dalton, this wouldn't have happened."

"If you're about to apologize, let me stop you right there. I've had it up to _here_ with people saying sorry for things they have nothing to do with."

"But I—"

"Do you ever wonder," Kurt said loudly, looking Blaine straight in the eyes, "why our 'friendship' seems especially strong when things are at their worst? Is it because you feel the need to mentor me, Blaine? Like I _need _you at times like these? Like I need your pathetic apologies?" He clenched his fists and jutted his chin out. "What I need is a friend. Someone who'll be there fair-weather or foul-weather or _any _weather. If you can't muster up the _courage _to do that, then I can't have you around me right now."

Blaine looked like he'd been slapped in the face.

"Kurt…"

"I really like you, Blaine. But I know who I am, and I'm not ashamed of it. I can't let the way I feel stop me from saying what needs to be said." He laughed harshly. "Look at me. This is where being myself got me, and I don't know if things will ever be the same again. But at least I'm not hiding."

Blaine ran his fingers through his hair, shifting anxiously. "That was…brutally honest."

"It's amazing what almost dying will do to you."

The door swung open and Burt came in, breaking the moment.

"Kurt, the…who is this?" he asked, noticing Blaine off to the side.

"This is Blaine Anderson from Dalton. Blaine, my father, Burt Hummel."

Burt eyed Blaine suspiciously.

"I should go," Blaine said, casting Kurt one last look. "I—I just had to see you, Kurt." And he fled, looking rather like a dog with its tail between its legs.

Kurt looked after him dispassionately. Burt frowned.

"Uh…I was going to say that the police need to get your statement, Kurt. About what happened," he added unnecessarily.

Kurt sank back onto the pillows. "Did they…find him?"

Burt nodded slowly. "They're holding him for car theft—his fingerprints were in the Navigator—and suspected assault." His voice dropped on the final word.

Kurt replied matter-of-factly. "Because they don't have the proof yet that he was the one who attacked me."

Burt flinched at his son's blasé attitude.

"…right."

Kurt took a breath.

"Let's get this over with."


	26. Chapter 26

**26**

To say the police interview was a disaster would be an understatement.

It only took two minutes for Kurt to realize the male officer, the one in charge, was homophobic, and his female counterpart was clearly new and afraid to disagree with him.

Officer Walton seemed to think the whole affair was some sort of sex game and that Kurt had gotten scared and backed out at the last minute and was now claiming rape to get back at Karofsky for some undetermined reason. This whole claim made absolutely no logical sense to Kurt, but Officer Walton had clearly worked it up in his mind so that nothing Kurt could say would change a thing.

Burt came running in when Kurt started screaming at the man for being an ass-hole. He practically threw Officer Walton out, and timid Officer Hart scurried out after him.

"Damn this town!" Burt growled when they were gone and Carole had come in to see what all the shouting was about. "Damn its law enforcement! _Goddamnit_!"

Kurt was staring at the opposite wall, looking lost and upset. When Carole tried to comfort him he shrugged out of her grip and murmured one name. His stepmother left, dragging her husband with her.

Seconds later, Mercedes flew into the room. Kurt fell into her arms, sobbing and trying to explain what had happened and how violated he felt and _was this what everyone else would think, too?_

Mercedes' eyes blazed with fury, but she only murmured soothing things into her friend's ear and rocked him back and forth gently.

Finn, Rachel, and Quinn stormed in before long, raging about the small-minded homophobia of Lima, and Kurt had to smile a little at _Finn Hudson _ranting against the very thing he sometimes (although not often anymore) displayed himself. He'd never admit it, but it did make him feel a little better to hear his friends stand up for him.

They all settled down and turned on the TV and found some weird soap opera that had the girls and Kurt completely engrossed in minutes. Finn tried—it was obvious he _tried_—to pay attention for about three minutes, before he gave up and resorted to what was probably an exciting game of Angry Birds on his phone.

**:**

Kurt was admittedly apprehensive about seeing his other friends. Mr. Schue had canceled glee so they could all head over early, between school and basketball/Cheerios practice.

Artie, Brittany, Santana, and Puck arrived all together, accompanied by a large bunch of colorful helium balloons.

They all acted like nothing unusual was going on and it was completely normal to be visiting a battered friend in the hospital after a traumatic near-death experience.

Well, except for Brittany, who pounced on Kurt (she was hauled back immediately by an overprotective Mercedes) and began babbling away about Smurfs and how Kurt had looked like one the night before and she was glad he was back to normal because she'd had nightmares about the Smurfs before and she didn't think she could be friends with Kurt if he was going to join their evil clan.

For his part, Kurt knew Brittany well enough to offer her a soft smile and a pat on the hand and the reassurance that he didn't plan on turning into a Smurf anytime soon. Then he quietly thanked her and Santana for finding him, which was a change from the night before that made Finn smile hopefully.

Puck, as it turned out, had decided to drop by school after all, to see what the rumor mill was churning out (as he put it to Finn when he mistakenly thought Kurt wasn't listening). The news was still emerging, but somehow most people knew, even with the omission of names on the news, that Kurt had been involved. The specific people missing from school that day didn't help quash the suspicions. The jocks had been quiet about it.

Tina and Mike arrived soon after, bringing Sam with them. The room was growing crowded very quickly, and Kurt was tiring fast.

He felt his composure beginning to slip after a half hour of forced cheerful conversation in which he only minimally took part. He knew they were all just trying to make him feel like nothing had changed—but the problem was that something _had_. He could feel it even if they couldn't.

_He _had changed. If they could see inside him as well as out, they would know that. He almost wished they'd be honest about their current emotions—horror at the knowledge that he'd been violated in the worst way? Mercedes had already warned him that they all knew. Perhaps revulsion at the patchwork of bruises that was his face (and much of the rest of his body, under bandages and sheets and the flimsy gown)?

He felt like screaming but he had the weirdest sensation that none of them would hear it. They were so concentrated on injecting normalcy into the situation that he didn't think they'd _want _to hear it even if they could.

"They don't tell you how bad it hurts," he said conversationally to Tina, who was currently closest.

She blinked. "How bad _what _hurts?"

"Losing your virginity."

The room had grown very silent, as one by one they'd all heard Kurt's voice and stopped to listen to what he had to say. Now they looked as if they wished they hadn't.

"You don't have to talk about this," Santana said, her expression clearly indicating she hoped he wouldn't.

Kurt shrugged. "It hurts like hell."

Nobody moved.

"Kurt…" Mercedes began, her voice cracking. She shook her head and pressed her lips together.

"Well, you all were trying so hard to avoid the elephant in the room, but the only way it's ever going to leave is if we let it stampede its way out."

"There's an elephant in here?" Brittany whispered to Artie. He shook his head tightly.

Tension hung heavy in the room until a new voice entered.

"Hey, guys. What's going on?"

Mr. Schue looked confused by the dense silence he had just walked into. His eyes went to Kurt and he tried and failed at producing a smile.

"So…I was, uh, thinking about our set-list for Regionals—"

"That's _it_?" Kurt exploded.

Will gaped. "Well, I, uh…"

"Do you really want to talk about it, Kurt?" Puck asked roughly. "Do you _want _to relive it?"

Kurt recoiled and the silence erupted into fierce protests against Puck's question and defense of the person it was directed at.

Mr. Shue looked like he was sorry he'd come.

Kurt curled up as best he could with his injured ribs and one leg stuck in a cast, and put his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut against the flurry of movement. He felt his breathing begin to quicken.

"It is time for you all to leave!" Maria's voice, raised commandingly, cut through the pandemonium. "Kurt needs his meds and a nap, and he certainly does _not _need this excitement."

Everyone turned to look at Kurt, noticing for the first time his feeble attempts to ward them off. Awkwardly, they muttered sullen apologies and wished Kurt farewell. Mercedes was the last to leave; she kissed her friend on the temple and whispered that she would be back the next day.

The medication made Kurt pleasantly drowsy. He switched on the television and soon found a channel that was airing the Disney version of "Hercules." This had never been a favorite of Kurt's, but he did enjoy the song currently being performed by the cartoon hero onscreen.

As Kurt drifted off, he found himself singing along:

"…_I can go the distance  
__I don't care how far  
__Somehow I'll be strong  
__I know every mile  
__Will be worth my while  
__I would go most anywhere  
__To find where I belong…"_

Hercules had it easy. He wasn't gay. And maybe he didn't have any friends, but at least having no friends meant not being forced to watch them drift away out of pity. Because Kurt couldn't erase the shocked faces of New Directions from his memory. They didn't want to confront what had happened to Kurt now.

He wondered if they ever would.


	27. Chapter 27

**27**

_"…you're so beautiful…"_

_Kurt moaned and tried to pull away from the giant hovering over him, but his body felt heavy and he flopped uselessly. The floor of the small shed was hard and cold and Karofsky's rough hands were running all over the countertenor, between his unclothed legs and up and down his back…_

_"Please stop," Kurt murmured, his head lolling sideways as he took deep, measured breaths._

_"You like this, Hummel? I think you do. I think you're fucking in love with it."_

_"I hate you…I hate you!"_

_Karofsky glowered down at him, and a big hand swung out of nowhere and slapped Kurt across the face with a stinging CRACK._

He woke with a start, gasping for air and flailing in the covers, which were twisted around his arms and _between his legs _and—

Oh.

Kurt began counting slowly and concentrated on the blinking light on the overhead smoke detector until he calmed down. Just like Santana taught him.

A dream. It was just a dream.

He took stock of his surroundings. The hospital room was dark; it was sometime in the night. Kurt began to inch his fingers down the bed, searching for an edge of the sheet to pull up—and drew back with a start when his touch met warm flesh.

He blinked and let his eyes focus a bit more, enough to realize that his dad was slumped by the side of the bed, head and arms resting on the edge of the mattress.

Kurt shook his head in affection and exasperation. He should have known nothing would keep Burt Hummel from staying the night again. He patted his dad's hand as he reached down a second time. Tugging the sheet up was a bit of a strain and wasn't an entirely painless process; Kurt's body was stiff and he couldn't really move his broken leg. But he finally had the covers re-situated around his chest.

He stared up at the ceiling.

"_…you're fucking in love with it."_

Kurt choked and leaned over the side of the bed. A line of spittle dangled from his mouth and he wiped it away with disgust, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

He could still feel those hands all over him, violating him…could remember what Karofsky's lips tasted like…and what it felt like to have the bastard _inside him._

He cried himself back to sleep.

**:**

Saturday was an uneventful, lazy day spent mainly in Mercedes' company. Kurt thought he might have scared the rest of his friends off.

The one exciting—and ultimately unfortunate—event of the day was an unexpected visit from Sue Sylvester herself, who stalked into the room like she owned it, announced that she expected Kurt to start showing up for Cheerios practice again, and plopped a DVD onto the bed before leaving as abruptly as she'd come.

Kurt's mortification at the fact that _she knew what happened_ was tempered by his recognition of the film:_ The Dark Crystal_.

This promptly sent him into a hysterical laughing fit; the only word Mercedes could distinguish in her friends' hopeless attempts at explanation was 'gelfling,' which didn't make sense to her at all.

The laughing fit turned into a coughing fit, which turned into a visit from the nurse, which turned into Kurt's release being delayed until Sunday afternoon because they wanted to make sure his coughing wasn't a sign of impending pneumonia.

Kurt's resulting sour mood only turned worse when Finn and Rachel's arrival was interrupted by another policeman, attempting to retry the interview.

Burt assented only when Officer Peters explained he'd come as a favor to Coach Sylvester; Kurt assumed word had gotten around to her about yesterday's disaster (most likely through Quinn). He felt a surge of affection rush through him; she hadn't been kidding when she'd said she'd be watching out for him.

The second interview went better than the first had, although it was more difficult than it had been before to go back through it, probably because Officer Peters acted like he honestly cared, and because Burt had insisted he sit in this time around. Kurt had a hard time telling all the details with his father listening.

At the end, Burt had hugged his son close, unshed tears glistening in his eyes.

"I love you, Kurt," he whispered. "I love you."

Kurt frowned.

He knew that.

**:**

And then it was Sunday; time to go home. Carole had brought Kurt some clothing to wear; comfortable, loose, easy-to-slip on things. This meant a baggy pair of gray sweatpants and a red T-shirt not seen since New Directions performed "True Colors" the year before.

Finn wasn't particularly happy with the uncomplaining way Kurt had accepted the plain clothes and allowed the nurse to help him into them as Finn waited outside and Burt worked out the discharge. He was actually relieved when Kurt flatly refused to get into his wheelchair.

"No way."

Finn crossed his arms and stared down his nose.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Get. In. _Now._"

Kurt glared at his stepbrother. Finn was actually doing a pretty good job of being intimidating for someone who usually looked like an overgrown puppy dog. It probably helped that he was currently towering over the smaller boy, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I don't need a wheelchair!" Kurt hissed.

Finn rolled his eyes and stepped back.

"Fine. Stand up."

"I need a crutch, Finn!"

"I'll be your crutch," Finn told him. "Try it. I dare you."

Curling his lip defiantly, Kurt grasped Finn's arm and shoved off the bed. He gasped as sharp pain from his ribs shot through his body, and a duller pain attacked his lower backside. His leg twinged in protest, even though he wasn't putting weight on it.

Finn swung him around and plopped him into the wheelchair, bending to adjust the casted leg to a comfortable position.

Kurt frowned down at his arm, which was still encased and hidden from view.

"This sucks."

"Face it," Finn told him cheerfully as he began pushing him down the hall. "You'll be in a wheelchair for a little while. You and Artie can totally have racing contests!"

"Oh, joy. I'd love to race someone with years more experience than I in this department. My Day-Glo leg and I are just going to crush the competition."

The customary dry tone made Finn smile as he glanced down at the neon green cast Kurt was sporting on much of his leg.

"I get to be the first to sign," he said.

"Yes, Finn, I heard you the first one thousand times. You, then 'Cedes, then Brittany…I think everyone has signed up for a slot at this point. Maybe we can get Mr. Schue to transcribe one of his favorite Journey songs, if there's room."

They had reached the center area; Burt smiled at them and pushed some papers back to the nurse on the other side of the counter.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

Kurt sighed and flicked his bangs irritably. "You have no idea."


	28. Chapter 28

**28**

Finn didn't know what he'd expected once Kurt was home—a return to normalcy? As foolish as he knew it was to expect things to get better quickly, he _had _hoped to see more glimmers of the "old Kurt"—the one who had perfected the defiant sneer and could make fun of a garish cast.

But as soon as they traveled over the threshold of the house, Kurt fell eerily silent. As Burt went around, explaining how almost everything had been made temporarily wheelchair accessible, Finn watched his stepbrother, who didn't even seem to be paying attention to the tutorial. His eyes were blank and he was staring into the distance.

Eventually, Burt realized this himself and awkwardly let the one-sided conversation halt, pushing his son into the living room and showing him the pull-out couch, all ready for his occupation since the basement stairs would be too difficult to manage.

Kurt made no protest—he didn't do much of anything, instead pressing his lips together and tracing his fingers down the bandages on his arm. Burt's face was pained; he shot Finn a look and ushered Carole into the master bedroom, shutting the door.

Finn swung his arms back and forth.

"So…" he said awkwardly. Kurt didn't take the bait, and the taller teen scratched his neck awkwardly. "I'll sign your cast now, if that's okay?"

Kurt shrugged, still focused on his forearm.

Finn shuffled past him to the kitchen and came back with a fat black permanent marker. He crouched in front of his stepbrother and tilted his head in thought, before reaching forward and carefully scrawling out a message.

"There. You wanna know what it says?"

Kurt shrugged again and Finn sighed, recapping the marker and settling onto the ground, looking up at the smaller boy. Kurt didn't meet his eyes.

"What happened?" Finn asked, frowning. "You seemed better at the hospital, and now…this." When Kurt didn't move, he continued, "We're all here for you. You know we care about you and want to help. Right?"

Another shrug.

**:**

Finn was _not _looking forward to returning to school. He knew the story would have gotten out at this point—there would be whispers and looks and maybe even questions. He got a queasy stomach just thinking about it, but at least the other glee kids would be right there with him.

Understandably, Kurt's date of return to McKinley remained undetermined. When Finn bade his brother goodbye, Kurt was lying on the couch, staring blankly at a morning talk show. He didn't return the farewell.

**:**

As it turned out, Finn's school day was brief.

After third period, he was in the hall with Puck and Sam when he heard Azimio talking loudly to some of the other jocks a few lockers away.

"And I bet the faggot _liked _it, too. Probably got a kick out of it. Right, Hudson?" he called loudly, eyes glimmering as he looked over at Finn. "You fags like it that way, don't you?"

Puck and Sam lunged forward, but they were too late. Finn had already charged and tackled Azimio to the ground, and was punching every inch of him he could reach.

Mr. Schue and Coach Bieste pulled them off each other moments later, but not before Azimio was sporting a broken nose and Finn had received a black eye.

Even given the situation, Will couldn't keep Finn out of trouble. He and Azimio were both suspended.

**:**

"You shouldn't have done that, Finn," Carole sighed as she drove her son home an hour later.

Finn was rather pleased with himself.

"He's a jerk, Mom. He deserved it!"

"I'm sure he did, sweetie. But you didn't really prove anything, did you? That boy isn't going to change just because you punched him."

"I proved I'll stand up for Kurt, no matter what," Finn said firmly. "Anyway, Mr. Schue managed to get Figgins to allow me to make up the work I miss, and we'll just have glee outside school."

"Oh, honey…" Carole sighed, but there was a proud smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"So what's my punishment?" Finn asked as they stepped into the house.

"You stay home with Kurt," Burt replied, appearing in the doorway. He wasn't even trying to hide his pride.

"Cool," Finn said, trotting past his parents into the den. Kurt was watching Law and Order and eating a bowl of chicken noodle soup. He glanced over at his stepbrother.

"Heard you tackled Azimio," he said softly.

"Dude, you should have seen the look on his face!" Finn laughed, flopping into an armchair. "He didn't know what hit him!"

"Boys, I'm heading back to work," Carole said, entering the room. She leaned down and kissed Finn on the forehead. "Put some ice on that bruise."

"See you later," Finn said cheerfully as his mother kissed Kurt on the top of the head.

"Bye," Kurt whispered, his eyes on the blanket draped over his legs.

Burt lumbered in moments later, jingling the keys in his hand.

"Hey, if it's okay with you two, I'm gonna run down to the shop really fast, make sure they're doing okay without me."

"We're fine," Finn said, glancing sideways at his stepbrother. _Well, I am._

Burt turned to his son. "Kurt?"

Kurt shrugged. "Okay."

"I'll be back in an hour or two. I have my phone; call for _anything_, okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt murmured.

Burt hesitated; then he shot Finn a look that clearly said 'Watch out for him.' Finn nodded, Burt nodded, and then the two teenagers were alone.

For several minutes, they sat in silence, attention fixed on the television. Then Kurt shifted gingerly and plucked at his T-shirt, the same one he'd been wearing yesterday.

"Can you do me a favor?" he asked tentatively.

"Sure," Finn said automatically, sitting up.

"I really need a shower. Could you just carry me down to the bathroom?"

"What about the bandages? And the stitches in your arm?"

Kurt shrugged. "They're waterproof."

Finn was hesitant, but the pleading look Kurt was giving him was too much, so he nodded and stood up, bending over the couch and lifting his brother with one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. Kurt winced but didn't protest as Finn carried him carefully down the stairs and into the basement bathroom.

"Dude, you weigh nothing! You need to eat more!"

Kurt eyed the shower skeptically. "I think I can get it from here, if you just put me in the tub."

Finn carefully set his brother down; Kurt sat awkwardly and frowned.

"Everything okay? Are you sure about this?" Finn asked anxiously. "Maybe we should wait…"

"It's _fine_, Finn. I'll just take a quick bath. Get me a bag to cover the cast and you can go. I'll call you if I need help."

**:**

A half hour later, Finn was pacing outside the closed bathroom door. He knew it took Kurt a long time to shower, but this was pushing it, even for him.

"Kurt?" he called, knocking on the door.

No response. Finn's insides clenched.

"Kurt?" He waited. "Okay, I'm coming in!"

He opened the door. The water was still running, but the shower curtain was shut and Finn couldn't see well through the steam filling the small room.

"Kurt?"

There was still no answer and Finn stepped forward and took hold of the curtain, preparing himself for the sight of his naked stepbrother. He pulled the curtain aside.

"Oh, my God."


	29. Chapter 29

**29**

It started out okay. Warm water, cleansing soap…it stung, just a little, but the bandages clung on faithfully. Kurt massaged shampoo through his scalp and felt the hospital grime slip away obediently. He was beginning to feel human again.

Then…a hand, touching his face. He gasped and his eyes flew open. But there was no one there. Phantom fingers danced up his spine.

"Please…" he whispered.

_Please_, a voice echoed in his ear, mockingly.

He started shaking, his fingers grasping at his skin with a need to feel something solid and his own, because he _still owned his body, dammit._

And then…

Blood.

There was blood and water and _pain._

Kurt blinked and stared down at himself, teeth clicking together in astonishment. There were swirls of blood in the water…red trickling down his arms and chest…the bandages were torn, floating in the water before him.

_I did that?_

Have to wash the blood away…

Kurt twisted the faucet violently, and steaming hot water poured out. He hissed and moved to turn it back, but his limbs weren't cooperating.

The door slammed open, and Kurt just had time to glimpse his stepbrother's horrified expression before he blacked out.

**:**

_Shit_.

Finn crossed the room in two strides and turned the water off before it could overflow the tub. His hands danced uncertainly above Kurt's prone body as he tried to decide where touching him would hurt the least.

Finally, he grasped Kurt's shoulder, shaking him gently.

"Kurt? "

The smaller boy's head lolled to the side, cheek landing on top of Finn's hand.

Finn took a deep breath and forced his panic down. He reached into the water for the plug, wincing as his hand brushed Kurt's rear end. The water began to drain and Finn watched the red swirls eddy away before reaching for Kurt's towel. He bent over, wrapping the towel around his stepbrother before lifting him carefully and carrying him into the bedroom. Depositing Kurt on his bed, he pulled out his phone and dialed three numbers.

"_911, what is your emergency?_"

Finn sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "I need an ambulance."

"_One is being dispatched to your location. Can you tell me what's going on?"_

"It's my brother. He…there's a lot of blood…I think he pulled the stitches…" Finn knew he wasn't making a lot of sense, but he couldn't seem to think straight. His eyes strayed down to the unconscious figure and he blanched.

The towel had fallen open, baring Kurt's skin to the world. Finn hadn't realized just how rough Karofsky had been. Kurt's torso was covered in bruises, rivulets of blood streaking across them. One arm was a maze of cuts. Kurt's pelvic area was bruised and Finn forced himself to look lower. There was blood snaking down Kurt's legs, too, coming from—fuck.

The operator's voice was gentle. _"Okay, stay on the line with me. Can you tell me your name?"_

"Finn Hudson. And my brother is Kurt…Hummel," he forced the words out as a tremor racked through his body. "Oh, God, I need to call his dad!"

_"Easy, Finn. I need you to calm down, okay? Take a few deep breaths."_

Finn remembered Santana and how she had helped Kurt during his panic attack. Slowly, he felt himself beginning to regain control.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm better now."

_"Good, that's good, Finn."_

Finn heard sirens. "The ambulance is here." He shot into motion, taking the stairs two at a time and flinging open the front door before the stretcher had made it up the path.

The next few minutes were a blur. When Finn had time to think again, he was sitting in the back of the ambulance, holding onto Kurt's hand as they sped to the hospital.

_Burt. I need to call Burt._

**:**

This time, Burt knew. He knew as soon as Ed answered the phone and called him over that something was wrong.

"Yeah?"

"Burt, it's Finn. I'm at the hospital with Kurt."

"I'll be right there." Burt hung up the phone and grabbed his coat and keys. "Ed, it's Kurt, I—"

"No worries. I've got it." Ed waved him away. He knew, of course, about what had happened to Lil' Hummel, as he was affectionately known at the shop. The whole town knew.

"Thanks," Burt shouted over his shoulder, his mind already on his son and what could have happened now.

**:**

When Kurt came to, he had no idea where he was.

The last thing he remembered was Finn coming home and his parents leaving and…the bath. Fragmented pieces of memory drifted through a haze in his mind.

For some reason, he'd lost control and started tearing at himself. He recalled a low, gutteral cry in a voice that couldn't possibly be his own, but was: _Get out! This is mine, you can't have it!_

He blinked his eyes open. He was lying on a bed—not in his own room, but surrounded by blue curtains, which meant he was one among a corridor of emergency room patients. He was back in the hospital.

Gingerly, he tilted his head down. He was dressed in blue scrubs and covered by a thin white blanket. His arm had been re-bandaged, as had his wrists and, he assumed, his neck and chest.

"…be okay?"

That was his father, Kurt realized, standing somewhere beyond the curtain. An unfamiliar voice replied.

"No permanent damage. He tore through a lot of his wrappings, but we've remedied that, and he's no worse off than he was when he left here yesterday. However…" And here the doctor's voice dipped lower so Kurt couldn't hear.

Lucky for Kurt's sharp ears, Burt wasn't quite so subtle and almost squeaked out his reply.

"Suicide risk?"

Kurt's mind instantly rebelled against having that phrase used in reference to _him_. He was not going to end his own life. He couldn't let Karofsky have that satisfaction.

"I'm not suicidal!" he called out, and the muttering cut off.

A moment later, the curtain opened, just a little, and Burt and Finn slipped inside. Kurt's father was wearing an obviously forced smile; Finn just looked concerned.

"How you feeling, buddy?" Burt asked.

"I'm _fine_," Kurt insisted. "I—I don't even remember doing it."

"I'm _so _sorry, Kurt," Finn said, twisting his fingers together. "I wouldn't have left you alone if I'd known you were gonna lose it and try to...you know…"

Kurt glared. "I'm _not _suicidal."

"Of course not, Kurt." Burt's tone said he wasn't convinced.

"I'm _not_."


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait! I have no excuse except writer's block. I have absolutely no intention of abandoning this story, which should be wrapping up soon-ish.

On another note: How about those recent episodes? Kurt is (finally) back at McKinley, but personally I find it hard to swallow Karofsky's sudden turn-around...

* * *

**30**

By the time Kurt, Burt, and Finn arrived back at the Hudmel house, it was past dinnertime, and all three were exhausted.

Finn lifted Kurt out of the truck and carried his stepbrother to the door, bridal-style. Kurt, clad in a pair of hospital scrubs, shivered even with Burt's coat around his shoulders. Burt hovered.

"You okay, son?" he asked for the upteenth time.

Kurt nodded wearily, resting his head against Finn's shoulder and heaving a deep sigh. Finn felt how tense the other boy was, and bit his lip.

Carole met them in the hall.

"How is he?" she asked anxiously.

"'He' is awake," Kurt mumbled, blinking at her.

"Oh, Kurt," she said gently, hesitating before placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry, sweetie. Are you hungry? I could heat up—"

"I just want to go to bed," Kurt said, his voice trembling.

"Okay, that's just fine." Carole bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder. "Um…"

Finn shifted. His arms were starting to ache. "What's wrong, Mom?"

Carole stepped closer and lowered her voice.

"Well…Brittany's in the kitchen."

Burt's brow furrowed. "What? Why?"

"I got home from work and she was waiting on the front porch, asking to see Kurt. I didn't really know what to do—I don't even know how she got here and she told me she doesn't remember her address. I was hoping you could drive her home, Finn."

"She wants to see me?" Kurt asked, a little more alert now.

"You don't have to…" Carole began.

"No, it's okay. She…she saved my life. The least I could do is talk to her for a little while. Give me a minute to change first?"

"All right, but _just _for a few minutes," Burt said firmly. "We _all _need some extra sleep tonight."

**:**

Several minutes later, Kurt had changed into flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt, and Finn had gone upstairs to send Brittany in.

The blonde flew down the stairs, squealing "Kurtsie!" She bounced onto Kurt's bed and he winced as his body was jolted.

"Careful, Brit," he said hoarsely.

She stilled instantly, eyes wide, and studied him carefully. Her silence was unnerving.

Kurt frowned.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally.

She wrinkled her nose, eyes still searching his face.

"You don't look like the Grim Reaper."

"…what?"

"Finn's mom said you looked like 'death warmed over.' But you don't."

With a growing sense of dread, Kurt pointed at his nightstand.

"Could you get my mirror out of the drawer there?"

Brittany leapt up eagerly and retrieved a small hand mirror, handing it to her friend before flopping back down on the comforter.

Kurt looked in the mirror and groaned. He'd really stopped taking care of himself—days without his moisturizing routine or a decent night of sleep were taking a toll on his complexion. His face was pasty and there were dark rings around his eyes that almost matched the bruises patterning his face.

_I _do _look dead._

"Why are you so sad?"

Brittany's innocent voice brought Kurt out of his reverie. He set the mirror aside and raised his eyes to meet his friend's. His shoulders slumped.

"Because I'm hurt, Brittany. And I'm tired."

"If you're tired, you should get more sleep!" she advised him, nodding enthusiastically.

Kurt sighed. "I wish I could. I've been having nightmares."

Her eyes widened. _"Oh_." She stared at her friend, picking delicately at a spot on her chin. "Sometimes I have nightmares, too. So my parents bought me a dream catcher."

"A what?"

"You hang it on the ceiling. It catches your bad dreams and lets the good ones go through," Brittany explained knowledgeably. "It's like a Native American thing." Her face lit up. "I'll bring you one, okay? Then you won't have bad dreams anymore!"

Kurt, of course, didn't believe in the power of a Native American legend, but Brittany was watching him hopefully so he forced a smile.

"Sure, Brit. I'd appreciate that."

She clapped her hands and bounced a little. "Does Finn need one, too? He looked tired when he let me in."

Kurt cringed guiltily. He knew Finn hadn't been getting much sleep, either, as Kurt's nightmares kept him awake as well. Finn spent the majority of the night sitting on his brother's bed and trying to soothe the troubled teen.

"It's okay, hon. We share a room. We'll just put it down here and it will—uh, _catch _Finn's bad dreams, too."

Brittany beamed.

"Awesome!" She jumped up suddenly. "I just remembered, I brought you a present! It's upstairs! Be right back!"

She bolted up the stairs before Kurt could respond and was back just as quickly, toting a large package wrapped in colorful paper that cheerfully wished the recipient 'Happy Birthday,' complete with kittens wearing cone-shaped hats.

"My birthday's in May," Kurt said blankly.

"It was the only kind we had," Brittany explained, setting the gift on the mattress next to her friend. "Go on, open it!"

Gingerly, Kurt reached forward and ripped the paper down one side. Brittany, wiggling with excitement, helped him on the other end. The wrappings soon lay in a nest around the house-shaped box.

"Build-A-Bear?" Kurt asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Brittany opened the top and pulled out a stuffed animal.

"Do you like him?"

Kurt stared. Dangling from Brittany's fingers was a bear. A bright, rainbow colored bear. With pink feet.

"Wh…"

"He's you, see?" Brittany set the animal on Kurt's lap and lifted its right arm. A small foam microphone was attached there with a rubber band. "I named him Alexander Jacobs, after your clothes."

Kurt stifled a laugh. "Alexander _McQueen _and _Marc _Jacobs are designers, Brit. They _design _my clothes."

Brittany blinked at him. "So…who designed what you're wearing right now?"

"I believe this is from The Gap." Kurt wrapped an arm around the bear's middle. It was extremely soft, and he smiled involuntarily, remembering innocent times when a new toy could fix anything. "Thanks. I really like him." His display of gratitude was interrupted by a wide yawn he could not quell. It made his eyes water.

Brittany's smile dimmed.

"Would singing help you relax?" she asked. "Because I know the perfect song to describe how I'm feeling right now…"

Kurt leaned back against the pillows, hugging Alexander Jacobs to his chest.

"I'm listening."

He let Brittany snuggle up beside him, taking his free hand between her own as she began to sing softly:

_"I'll be your candle on the water_  
_My love for you will always burn_  
_I know you're lost and drifting,_  
_But the clouds are lifting_  
_Don't give up, you have somewhere to turn_

_I'll be your candle on the water_  
_Till every wave is warm and bright_  
_My soul is there, beside you,_  
_Let this candle guide you_  
_Soon you'll see a golden stream of light_

_A cold and friendless tide has found you_  
_Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down_  
_I'll paint a ray of hope around you_  
_Circling in the air, lighted by a prayer_

_I'll be your candle on the water_  
_This flame inside of me will grow_  
_Keep holding on, you'll make it_  
_Here's my hand so take it_  
_Look for me reaching out to show_  
_As sure as rivers flow,_  
_I'll never let you go_  
_I'll never let you go_  
_I'll never let you go…"_

"Thanks, Brittany," Kurt sniffled as the blonde's voice trailed into silence. "That was beautiful."

She wiped a tear off his cheek, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

"I love you, Kurt. No matter what. And I believe in you."

* * *

A/N: Song was "Candle on the Water," from _Pete's Dragon_.


	31. Chapter 31

**31**

The next morning, Burt approached a bed-ridden Kurt with his "I-know-you're-gonna-hate-this-but-I'm-doing-what's-best-for-you" expression firmly in place.

"You have an appointment tomorrow. The hospital recommended this psychiatrist, Dr. Matthews…"

"A _shrink_?" Kurt's voice was shrill and his eyes were wide. "I'm not crazy, Dad."

Burt pushed the bill of his cap up, frustrated. "I know that, kiddo. Look, lots of perfectly sane people need help sometimes." He sat on the edge of his son's mattress, his voice dropping. "I saw someone for a while, back after your mom died."

Kurt exhaled. "You never told me that."

"Yeah, well, that's because I'm the parent here, and I needed to stay strong for you. Still do. The _point _is, you've been through a really bad thing, Kurt, and you're struggling. Don't think I don't know about the nightmares. I'm really glad you've got the friends you do to help you, but there's no shame in needing some professional help. Do you understand?"

Kurt sighed and reluctantly met his father's eyes. "Yes."

Burt sat back, relieved. "Just do this first session for me, and we'll see what happens. I just want to help you, Kurt. I want you to be okay."

Kurt bit back his automatic _'I _am _okay' _and instead forced himself to stay calm. He squeezed his dad's hand.

"Anything else you need, Dad? Finn and I were going to watch a movie."

Burt didn't move. Then he removed his hat and stared intently at his knees.

"Actually, there is something…"

Kurt didn't like his father's tone, and it was with trepidation that he voiced his next question.

"What is it?"

"I got a call from the police station early this morning."

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Kurt could swear everything _flickered _for a moment, but then his vision zeroed in on his father, watching him solemnly for a reaction.

"And?" Kurt finally breathed out, heart pounding.

"Karofsky confessed to stealing your car and kidnapping and assaulting you." A pause. "But he denied the rape."

Relief mixed with the sensation of being punched in the gut swept over the countertenor. He took a deep breath.

"How…" His voice was constricted, shaking; he cleared his throat and tried again. "How can he _do _that? The…the r-rape kit…"

"…would make for a very strong case in the courts. But Karofsky's still a minor. His DNA isn't in the system, so unless he admits to it, or we challenge his denial…"

"…all they know for sure is that I had _sex _with somebody." Kurt's voice was thin. "And we played it _rough_."

Burt flinched. "We know that's not what happened, Kurt. It's up to you whether we take this to trial. If we do, there's a chance Karofsky could be tried as an adult."

Kurt pursed his lips. "And if we don't?"

"He'll get time in juvie—at least a year, probably. And he'll get counseling."

_He needs it,_ Kurt thought, remembering the frightening look in Karofsky's eyes and his rant about snow angels. _So he doesn't do this to anybody else._

Kurt sighed and swallowed, tears filling his eyes as he looked up.

"I want him put away as long as possible…but I don't think I can handle seeing him again, even in court. I just…I can't go through it again. I _can't_." Tears began rolling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm just not b-brave enough."

Burt pulled his son into a firm hug, mindful of the boy's injuries.

"It's all right, son. Shh…Kurt, you're the bravest person I know. You have _nothing _to be sorry for, okay? I love you. It's okay…"

Kurt began to weep into his father's shoulder.

"I couldn't stop him, Daddy. I tried…I tried."

Burt felt tears sting his own eyes.

"I know, buddy…"

"I-I-I _begged _for him to stop. A-a-and he _laughed_. He laughed!"

"Shhh…"

"W-w-why does he h-h-hate me so m-much?"

Burt's heart broke.

"I don't know, son. I don't know."

"It hurts…"

Burt shut his eyes and rocked back and forth as he and Kurt clung to each other like they would never let go.

**:**

An hour later, Kurt had cried himself to sleep. Burt wiped his eyes and tugged Kurt's blanket over his thin shoulders, kissing his son's temple. He climbed the stairs slowly, head bowed.

Finn was watching television in the den, but his head swiveled when his stepfather entered the room.

"He's asleep," Burt said. "Could you go down there and just keep an eye on him for awhile?"

The tall teen nodded mutely, stumbling over his long legs in his hurry to get downstairs.

Burt allowed himself an affectionate smile before his expression crumpled and he fell onto the couch, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thumbing the screen.

There was only one ring before the call was picked up on the other end.

"_Burt? Everything okay?_"

"Carole." It was all Burt could get out before his last bits of composure slipped away.

**:**

Kurt looked _tiny_. He was curled into a ball, save for his casted leg, which stuck straight out. His arms were wrapped around the bear Brittany had given him, and his face was buried in his pillow.

He did appear to be asleep, so Finn didn't think twice about calling his girlfriend, who would be heading to lunch.

"_Finn?_" Rachel sounded happy to hear from him. With all the commotion the day before, he hadn't had the chance to talk to her since his suspension.

"Hey. How's it going at school?"

She knew what he was really asking about.

"_It's quiet, but I don't think it'll be long before things return to normal. Life goes on. How's Kurt?"_

Finn glanced over at his sleeping stepbrother.

"He's okay, I guess. Still having nightmares. Brittany came over last night." He wasn't sure why he'd added the last bit, but Rachel seemed interested.

"_Brittany? Really? How did he take that?_"

"Fine. He was in a better mood after she left."

"_That's a good sign. Listen, Finn, I don't mean to sound callous, because you know I _really _care about Kurt…but we need to start getting ready for Regionals. I don't know if Kurt's up to it, but if he isn't, we should think about how to get Lauren back._"

Finn didn't know what 'callous' meant, but he did understand that Rachel was, as usual, fixated on competition, and that she had pretty much just suggested they _replace_ Kurt.

"Rachel, that is _so _not cool! Kurt's been through a lot. He just needs some time, and he'll go back to his old self."

"…_I think it's time we consider the fact that may never happen._"

Finn felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

"I can't talk about this right now. I've gotta go."

"_I'm sorry, Finn._"

Finn hung up, flinging the phone onto his pillow and burying his face in his hands. After a moment, he turned to look at Kurt.

Sad blue eyes stared back at him.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: I'm not dead! And neither is this story. I think I should be wrapping up by Chapter 35. One week until Glee Season 3 premiere - my tentative goal is to have this done by then. This may or may not happen. College is tough.

* * *

**32**

"Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt's head snapped up. He could feel his father shift beside him, sizing up the woman standing before them.

She looked exceedingly ordinary, brown hair and eyes, dressed in a pantsuit, a folder held loosely in her hands.

Then she smiled, and Kurt felt some of his tension melt away at the all-too familiar warmth natural mothers seemed to emanate.

Then his heart panged. He wanted _his _mom.

Someone nudged his arm.

"Buddy?"

Kurt realized he'd been staring at the doctor in silence. He bit his lip and tried to smile.

"That's me."

The woman's eyes sparkled as though they were sharing some private joke. She extended her hand.

"I'm Dr. Clark. Would it be okay if we talked?"

Kurt glanced at his father, half-questioning, half-'see, at least she's asking what I want.' Burt nodded, so Kurt took the doctor's hand and shook obediently.

"Okay."

"Great. My office is down this hall. Do you need…?"

Kurt answered her question by beginning to wheel himself in the direction she'd indicated.

"My glee club spent a whole week riding around in wheelchairs to see what it was like to be our friend, Artie. He's a paraplegic," Kurt explained as he followed Dr. Clark. "I'd go even faster, but my arms…"

He trailed off into silence, flushing. Dr. Clark either didn't notice or pretended not to. She held the door open for Kurt, then sat in an armchair in front of the window, facing him with one leg crossed over the other. She leaned forward, still smiling.

"Your dad mentioned glee when we talked on the phone. That's pretty important to you?"

"Yeah…" Kurt said awkwardly. He gathered a fistful of sweat pants in his hand, feeling the firmness of the cast beneath the material. "Look, I…I don't know what I'm supposed to say. My dad made me come, but I'm not ready to talk about it…"

"That's fine, Kurt," Dr. Clark said gently. "We can talk about anything you want."

"…anything?"

"Absolutely."

He took a breath and managed a small smile.

"Okay. I absolutely adore your suit. Who is the designer and where did you get it?"

**:**

"Mr. Schue, fellow glee members, I think the time has come to get serious about Regionals."

Nine loud groans followed this announcement. Mr. Schue smiled weakly.

Rachel planted her hands on her hips and glared at them collectively.

"Are you all forgetting that we lost Regionals last year?" she hissed.

"Are you forgetting that we're a little preoccupied at the moment?" Quinn shot back.

"Look, I care about Kurt, too, but—"

Mercedes jumped to her feet. "Now wait a minute, white girl. There is no 'but.' I'm sorry, but there is no way I can just act like everything's okay right now!"

"Oh, grow up, Mercedes!"

The silence that followed this outburst was sudden and complete. Rachel drew back, a hand over her mouth and tears quickly forming in her eyes.

Will moved forward. "Girls—"

"I'm so sorry!" Rachel squeaked. "I—I didn't—"

Mercedes radiated fury. Only Quinn's hand on her shoulder kept her rooted to her spot.

"You can be a really big bitch, Rachel Berry."

Rachel slowly sank into a chair, wiping her face miserably.

Mercedes turned to face her teacher. "Mr. Schue, I'd like to sing something. It sort of fits with the assignment."

Will hesitantly nodded.

"Okay. Everyone else, sit down."

Mercedes crossed her arms and stared fixedly at the window over her friends' heads.

"I'm tired of the way they treat us. I'm tired of the way we're always turning on each other. I'm just…tired." She turned to the band, who were waiting obediently with their instruments. "'Beat It.'"

"_They told him 'Don't you ever come around here.  
__Don't wanna see your face, you better disappear.'  
__The fire's in their eyes and their words are really clear  
__So beat it, just beat it_

_You better run, you better do what you can  
__Don't wanna see no blood, don't be a macho man  
__You wanna be tough, better do what you can  
__So beat it, but you wanna be bad"_

Artie, Sam, Mike, and Puck stepped forward to join her in the chorus.

"_Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it  
__No one wants to be defeated  
__Showin' how funky strong is your fight  
__It doesn't matter who's wrong or right  
__Just beat it, beat it  
__Just beat it, beat it  
__Just beat it, beat it  
__Just beat it, beat it"_

This time, Artie took the verse.

"_They're out to get you, better leave while you can  
__Don't wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man  
__You wanna stay alive, better do what you can  
__So beat it, just beat it"_

Sam stepped up.

"_You have to show them that you're really not scared  
__You're playin' with your life, this ain't no truth or dare  
__They'll kick you, then they beat you,  
__Then they'll tell you its fair  
__So beat it, but you wanna be bad"_

And now everyone except Rachel and Mr. Schue was off their chairs, dancing and singing on the floor.

"_Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it  
__No one wants to be defeated  
__Showin' how funky strong is your fight  
__It doesn't matter who's wrong or right  
__Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it_

_No one wants to be defeated  
__Showin' how funky strong is your fight  
__It doesn't matter who's wrong or right  
__Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it"_

In the midst of this, Mercedes approached Rachel and held out her hand. Rachel smiled hopefully through her tears and let Mercedes pull her onto the floor to join the group.

"_Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it  
__No one wants to be defeated  
__Showin' how funky strong is your fight  
__It doesn't matter who's wrong or right  
_

_Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it  
__No one wants to be defeated  
__Showin' how funky strong is your fight  
__It doesn't matter who's wrong or who's right  
__Just beat it, beat it  
__Beat it, beat it, beat it"_

Mr. Schue's clapping ended the kids' song.

"Guys, choreograph some dancing, and we might just have a number for Regionals!"

**:**

Finn took a deep breath and stared at the door in front of him. He didn't really know how he'd ended up here—his intention had been to go for a drive, to get out of the house for a little while.

And his thoughts had brought him to this apartment.

Sighing, he raised a hand and knocked.

The door opened and a confused face looked back at him.

"Finn?"

"Hey, Mr. Schue. Um, can I come in?"

His teacher stepped back, waving him forward. "Yeah, of course. What's up?"

Finn found his way to the living room and sank onto the couch.

"I need some guidance," he admitted. "Like, fatherly guidance. From someone I don't live with," he added, thinking of Burt.

Mr. Schue sat facing him on the coffee table.

"Okay. I'll do what I can…"

"I wanna help Kurt. It really hurts to see him so lost. But I don't know what to do. He won't talk to me. And he cries. A lot. And I'm not good with that. I feel like my mom and Burt are counting on me, but I don't know how to deal with this. Sometimes I'm so mad I just feel like punching something, but then I just get really sad. Like, how could anyone hurt Kurt? How could anyone hate him?" He bit his lip, staring at his knees. "I just…I don't know."

Mr. Schue leaned forward, putting his hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Have you thought about telling your parents about how you feel?"

Finn shook his head. "They're so busy with work, and Kurt…"

"But you're their son, too, Finn. You matter just as much as Kurt. And you're struggling."

Finn swiped a hand across his eyes. "It isn't fair," he whispered.

"No. It isn't," Mr. Schue agreed. "Tell you what, Finn. I'm sure Ms. Pillsbury knows a few good family counselors. Why don't I get some names for you? It sounds like it may be a good idea. But you _have _to talk to your mom and Kurt's dad."

"Okay…"

"And Ms. Pillsbury is going to come talk to glee soon. Rest assured, Finn, you are _not _the only one who's having trouble dealing with this."

Finn nodded, raising his head to meet his teacher's eyes. "I'll be back at school Monday. And, uh, Kurt actually mentioned he missed you guys today. So maybe we could get together, as a group, sometime this weekend? At our house?"

Will smiled. "That sounds great, Finn."

Finn took a shaky breath and stood. "I should probably get back…thanks, Mr. Schue."

The older man accompanied him to the door and gave him a quick hug.

"It's going to be okay. I know it's hard to see that now, but you, and Kurt, are going to get through this. We all are."

* * *

A/N: Song was "Beat It" by Michael Jackson.


	33. Chapter 33

**33**

"It's just a phone."

"I know."

"He's only human."

"I know."

"And he really cares about you."

"I'm not so sure about that anymore."

It was Friday afternoon. Kurt and Mercedes were seated on the Hummel's couch, facing each other with Kurt's cell lying between them. They had been staring at it for a good five minutes while Kurt worked up the courage to dial a certain number.

Mercedes sighed. "Boo, if he _doesn't_, then he's an idiot who isn't worth your time. But at least you'll know."

Kurt's fingers twitched. Then he rolled his eyes and lifted the cell, pressing a few buttons and holding it to his ear.

It rang once. Twice.

"He's not answering," Kurt hissed.

"Give him a chance!"

"But—"

"_Hello?"_

Kurt's eyes widened and his mouth opened, closed, opened again. Mercedes poked him gently in the stomach, and he started.

"Blaine!"

"_Kurt? Is that you?"_

"Yes! I mean, yeah, it's me."

There was a moment of silence, then:

"_How are you doing?" _

Blaine's tone was timid, but definitely genuine, and Kurt felt his muscles slowly unknot.

"I—well, I've been better." He laughed wryly.

"…_yeah. Listen Kurt—"_

"—I'm sorry." Both boys blurted at the same time, sharing an embarrassed laugh immediately afterwards.

Mercedes slipped quietly out of the room.

**:**

Blaine leaned against his headboard, his phone held tightly to his ear.

"I'm so glad you called," he admitted. "What happened at the hospital…"

"…_was my fault,"_ Kurt said. _"You were worried about me, and I lashed out."_

"Kurt, I don't blame you at all. You were attacked, and then I showed up, and we didn't exactly part on good terms."

"_I shouldn't have snapped. Part of me was glad to see you. But…well, you reminded me of Dalton and how I left because McKinley was supposed to be better. And obviously it didn't really turn out that way."_

"I'm so sorry," Blaine whispered. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Kurt."

There was a pause. _"I want to tell you the whole story. About what happened that night."_

Blaine noted the tremor in Kurt's voice and swallowed, taking a breath.

"I'm listening."

**:**

"Are you sure Kurt's ready for this?" Tina asked anxiously as she, Mike, and Artie headed up the Hummel's driveway for Saturday's rehearsal. "It's only been a week."

"Finn said he wanted to see us. I guess that's a good sign…" Artie shrugged.

Mike put an arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. "If he wants us to leave, we will. We're not here to push him."

Burt opened the door and waved them inside with a smile.

"Hey, kids. Everyone's in the living room."

'Everyone' turned out to be an accurate description. Mercedes, Quinn, Santana, and Brittany were crowded onto the couch. Rachel was perched cross-legged on an armchair, a keyboard balanced on her knees. Puck and Sam were sprawled on the floor, and Finn sat in front of his drumset. Kurt's wheelchair was in front of the fireplace—a second glance revealed Puck scribbling something on the cast, under its wearer's close supervision. Mr. Schue and Carole were chatting in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Good!" Rachel perked up when she spotted the new arrivals. "We can get started."

"All right," Carole said, holding up her hands. "Burt and I are going to get out of your hair for a while. We both have our cells if anyone needs anything."

The implication was clear: if _Kurt _needs anything.

"Bye, Mom!" Finn called pointedly.

Kurt was busy bickering with Puck, but he waved at his father and shot him a tiny 'I'm okay' smile. The parents left.

"Find a seat, guys." Mr. Schue smiled brightly.

"Actually, Mr. Schue, we have a little performance we want to give first," Santana announced, extricating herself from the sofa and pulling Brittany to her feet as well. "That is, Britt, me, and Anne Rice over there do."

Tina wrinkled her nose at the nickname, pushing Mike toward the vacated seats and pulling Artie's chair up next to Kurt's.

Rachel gave an exaggerated sigh but obediently switched her instrument on.

"I guess we can do this first," she relented.

Santana put her hands on her hips, standing front and center of the other two girls.

"Everyone's been really down lately, and it's getting depressing. Like, I totally understand. But aren't you supposed to sing _happy _songs when you feel down? All that 'sun'll come out tomorrow shit' doesn't help anything. So, here's my contribution to the assignment. Interpret as you will. Berry, Finnocence, girls?"

_"Well he walked up to me_  
_And he asked me if I wanted to dance_  
_He looked kinda nice_  
_And so I said I might take a chance_  
_When he danced he held me tight_  
_And when he walked me home that night_  
_All the stars were shining bright_  
_And then he kissed me"_

Tina blew Mike a kiss.

_"Each time I saw him_  
_I couldn't wait to see him again_  
_I wanted to let him know_  
_That he was more than a friend_  
_I didn't know just what to do_  
_So I whispered 'I love you'_  
_And he said that he loved me too_  
_And then he kissed me"_

Brittany bounded forward and kissed Artie full on the mouth; Santana hauled her back a moment later.

_"He kissed me in a way_  
_That I've never been kissed before_  
_He kissed me in a way_  
_That I wanna be kissed forever more_

_I knew that he was mine_  
_So I gave him all the love that I had_  
_And one day he took me home_  
_To meet his mom and his dad_  
_Then he asked me to be his bride_  
_And always be right by his side_  
_I felt so happy I almost cried_  
_And then he kissed me"_

Santana winked at Puck and flirtatiously swung her hips, swishing her mini-skirt.

_"Then he asked me to be his bride_  
_And always be right by his side_  
_I felt so happy I almost cried_  
_And then he kissed me_  
_And then he kissed me_  
_And then he kissed me"_

* * *

A/N: Song was "Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals.


	34. Chapter 34

**34**

"Great job girls!" Mr. Schue applauded the performance, backed by the rest of the group. "A very unusual choice, but I approve of your willingness to delve into past hits."

Santana smirked and mock-curtseyed, latching fingers with Brittany as they settled on the carpet by Artie's feet. Tina navigated the maze of torsos and limbs to settle next to Mike on the couch.

"I also found this choice inspiring," Rachel began loudly. "Which is why I'd like to petition for a solo at Regionals in which I explore the popular music of the past—"

Will cut in quickly. "Actually, Rachel, I was thinking maybe Kurt would like a solo this year."

Kurt's eyebrows flew up as everyone turned to look.

"Really?"

"Yep. You never got the chance at Sectionals."

Kurt blushed. Then he fixed his teacher with a stern look.

"Mr. Schue, you know I would love the chance for a competition solo that I don't have to sell my soul for, but I don't want to do it if you're only offering out of pity."

"I'm not." Will said firmly. "I truly believe you have earned this."

"He's right, Kurt," Finn said. "Go for it."

There were murmurs and nods of assent.

Kurt looked at Rachel, who smiled at him.

"They're right. It's your turn. You should open our performance and blow the other teams out of the water." She sat up straighter. "And then Finn and I will destroy the opposition with our duet."

Mercedes added proudly, "But our group number will be what brings it all together."

"So, Kurt, will you be our soloist?" Will asked.

Kurt beamed.

"I'd be honored."

**:**

_Two weeks later…_

Dr. Clark crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward.

"What do you want to talk about today, Kurt?"

Kurt crossed his arms, uncrossed them, and smiled at the woman he'd slowly begun to trust with his feelings.

"It's been three weeks since the attack."

"Yes. You're doing incredibly well."

"I'm going back to school on Monday."

She scribbled something on her pad of paper. "Are you ready?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. I think so. I know it's going to be difficult…but I also know that my friends are going to be there for me. Coach Sylvester came by yesterday and told me that she would tolerate absolutely no harassment, and if there's one person you never want to cross, it's her. I think I'm pretty safe if she's watching."

Dr. Clark smiled. "Yes, I seem to remember your tales of Ms. Sylvester's more sordid doings."

Kurt laughed appreciatively, then nervously clasped his hands together.

"Actually…I wanted to talk about Karofsky."

The name felt bitter on his tongue, but it didn't cause flashbacks like before.

The doctor didn't move. "Okay."

"I've been thinking about how I could have turned out like him—a homophobic closet-case. But I had friends who encouraged me to be myself and gave me the push to come out to my dad and the rest of the school. The only difference between us is our friends."

"And your choices," Dr. Clark reminded him gently. "You're very brave, Kurt. I hope you realize that."

"I feel sorry for him," Kurt said quietly. "I don't know if I'll be ready to forgive him anytime soon, but I hope I can someday. And I hope…I hope he figures it out. No one deserves to be miserable forever."

**:**

"Is what you wear really that big of a deal?" Finn asked from the safe distance of the basement stairs, as he stared at the chaos that his was his and his stepbrother's room.

"Finn!" Kurt wailed. "Of course it is! I have to make an impression!"

Mercedes snorted, head buried in her best friend's closet. "Honey, every eye is gonna be on you no matter _what _you wear."

"Which is exactly why I need to be at my most fabulous!"

Someone cleared their throat behind Finn, and he jumped and turned.

Blaine smiled nervously at him. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Blaine!" Kurt called. "Thank Gaga you're here. 'Cedes and I are in desperate need of your help. Finn, if you're just going to stand there like a decoration, go away and play video games or something."

Finn fixed Blaine with his most intimidating look before obediently leaving the other three alone. In the hall, he ran into Burt.

"How's it going down there?" his stepfather asked with a glance toward the cracked door.

"Kurt is playing dictator with the clothes. I swear, I think he's going to climb out of that wheelchair soon. Stay away if you value your life."

Burt grinned. "Sounds like my boy is back."

Finn smiled, feeling his spirits rise. "You know…he just might be."

**:**

"There he is!" Brittany squealed, bouncing on her toes and squeezing Artie's hand.

The glee club was waiting in McKinley's parking lot for its final two members, and Kurt's Navigator had just pulled into a space. Moments later, their friends rounded a row of cars, Finn pushing Kurt in his wheelchair.

"Good morning," Kurt greeted them primly.

"Are you ready?" Sam asked.

Kurt took a deep breath. "I think so."

Silently, the group turned and made their way toward the school entrance, falling into a sort of guard around their injured member.

The halls audibly quieted when Kurt rolled through, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

There were whispers. But no one jeered. No one called out insults. It was just…quiet.

"This is boring," Santana announced suddenly. "Wheelchair race?"

"Hell yes!" Puck cheered.

"No. No!" Kurt protested, even as Finn's fingers tightened around the handles behind his shoulders. Puck lined Artie up next to him.

"On my mark," Santana counted. "Three, two—"

"_Mercedes!_"

"One!"

"FINN HUDSON!"


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: Well, I said I wanted to have this finished before Season 3 premiered, and guess what? I did it! This is the final chapter. Thank you all for reading! This is my longest story to date, and I am very proud of the way it turned out.

* * *

**35**

_Regionals_

"I can't do this. I'm going to be sick."

New Directions was waiting backstage for their chance to perform, and Kurt was getting cold feet.

"You're going to be great!" Mercedes reassured him, self-consciously messing with her hair in a mirror.

"_Stop saying that!_"

"Dude." Finn frowned at him. "You're like, never afraid of anything. But you're nervous about doing what you do best?"

"I've never had a solo in a competition before!" Kurt exclaimed, curling his fingers around the arms of his wheelchair and jiggling his leg impatiently. "What if my voice cracks?"

"Oh, like in the sing-off last year?" At some point, Rachel had breezed over and was now glaring down at her friend, hands on her hips. She looked rather pleased to have the height advantage for once. "I know you meant to do that. You've sung that note perfectly since then."

"You lost on_ purpose_?" Mercedes gaped. "_Why_?"

"It doesn't matter now! What matters is that I am about to go out there and projectile vomit over all those people."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Stop being such a drama queen, Hummel. If I can handle a solo, you can. And if you can't, you'll be sorry. _I keep razor blades in my hair_," she hissed sauntering away.

Kurt blinked. He thought he'd heard a compliment in there somewhere, but his mind was now stuck on 'razor blades.'

"Oh, great, Santana, threaten him! That'll help!" Rachel called, throwing up her hands and stalking away. "Finn! We should do some extra warm-ups!"

Finn grimaced and began to trudge after his girlfriend. "Good luck, bro!"

Kurt smirked as Rachel's irate voice could be heard calling, "It's _break a leg_, Finn!"

Brittany wandered over, wearing a broad smile and hiding something behind her back.

"Kurt, I wanted to give you my good luck charm. See, Artie gave me a magic comb for Sectionals, but then I lost it and he said it wasn't really magic after all, and that _I _was. You don't have a boyfriend to tell you you're magical—but you totally are—so I thought I'd lend you my favorite hairclip for the competition. It might help."

And she held out a hairpiece with a bright pink flower attached to it.

Kurt took the offering and smiled up at his friend. "Thanks, Brit. Tell you what; it doesn't really go with my outfit, so I'm just going to keep it in my pocket, okay?"

Brittany giggled. "I didn't exactly expect you to _wear _it, Kurt! Your hair isn't long enough."

She drifted away. Kurt raised his eyebrows at Mercedes, who shrugged.

"She's sweet."

"Kurt!"

Kurt turned to see a familiar figure in uniform approaching. He smiled.

"Hey, Blaine. The Warblers did very well." Their performance had included a pumped-up version of Maroon 5's "Misery," helmed by Blaine himself.

"Thanks." Blaine stuck his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to tell you I'll be watching from the audience. I'm sure you'll be great."

"I'm sure we will, too," Puck replied, having sidled up to them.

"Puck!" Kurt groaned. He shook his head. "Thank you, Blaine. Are we still good for coffee next Tuesday?"

Blaine grinned. "Of course."

"New Directions!" Will called. "Places!"

"Well, I'll let you go," Blaine said, stepping backward. "See you later, Kurt."

"Bye!" Kurt called, watching the boy leave.

"My little man is growing up," Puck proclaimed, ruffling Kurt's hair.

He squeaked and shoved the offending hand away, delicately fixing the stray strands.

"Touch me again, Puckerman, and you'll regret it."

Will strode over to them with a microphone.

"You ready?" he asked Kurt.

"Yes."

An amplified voice spoke from the stage.

"And now for, today's final performance, the McKinley High New Directions!"

"Go get 'em!" Artie urged as Kurt rolled past him to the wings.

Kurt took a breath, made sure the mic was switched on, and wheeled himself onto the stage as the music began.

The lights shone in his eyes as he positioned himself, lifting the microphone.

_"This is the moment_  
_This is the day,_  
_When I send all my doubts and demons_  
_On their way_

_Every endeavor,_  
_I have made - ever -_  
_Is coming into play,_  
_Is here and now - today_

_This is the moment,_  
_This is the time,_  
_When the momentum and the moment_  
_Are in rhyme_

_Give me this moment -_  
_This precious chance -_  
_I'll gather up my past_  
_And make some sense at last_

_This is the moment,_  
_When all I've done -_  
_All of the dreaming,_  
_And scheming and screaming,_  
_Become one_

_This is the day -_  
_See it sparkle and shine,_  
_When all I've lived for_  
_Becomes mine_

_For all these years,_  
_I've faced the world alone,_  
_And now the time has come_  
_To prove to them_  
_I've made it on my own_

_This is the moment -_  
_My final test -_  
_Destiny beckoned,_  
_I never reckoned,_  
_Second best_

_I won't look down,_  
_I must not fall_  
_This is the moment,_  
_The sweetest moment of them all_

_This is the moment_  
_Damn all the odds_  
_This day, or never,_  
_I'll sit forever_  
_With the gods_

_When I look back,_  
_I will always recall,_  
_Moment for moment,_  
_This was the moment,_  
_The greatest moment_  
_Of them all!"_

Kurt felt himself tear up as the applause thundered into his ears. He beamed, and the curtain fell in front of him. He barely noticed Rachel and Finn start singing, because he was being mobbed by the other nine members of glee.

"I'm so proud of you!" Mercedes whispered in his ear.

Quinn's face was glowing. "Great job, Kurt."

Will squeezed his shoulder.

"I knew you could do it. Okay, everybody, places for 'Beat It!'"

**:**

"…and the 2011 Midwest Regionals Show Choir Competition champion is…the New Directions!"

Everything was a blur of people and screaming and a trophy…slowly, Kurt felt his euphoria rise as he realized what had happened—_they had won_.

His smile split his face as wide as it would go, and he joined in his team's celebration as they tumbled off the stage.

Then he hung back, watching them.

At this moment, he couldn't imagine feeling happier. He had the best friends imaginable. And this was their time. Their moment.

_His _moment.

* * *

A/N: Song was "This Is The Moment" from _Jekyll & Hyde_.


End file.
